The A ware
by Fandomatic
Summary: Team Sheppard plunges into the midst of a killing field where an insidious enemy challenges their relationships, sets John on a course of destruction and leaves Atlantis leaderless while McKay and Lorne are held hostage.
1. The Uplink

_A/N: This story takes place mid 2nd Season because I like Beckett and Weir. But everyone gets a role to play. _

_Summary: __This is a story about future tech and how a society might deploy its weapon of choice. The story builds slowly as the team blunders into a killing field, accidentally interfere, and find themselves immersed in a galactic power play that threatens them all.  
_

_Disclaimer: Look what I found in the garbage! Can I keep it? Aw, crap. Can we put in the Recycle Bin? Go green!_

•

**The Uplink**

The enabler agent stirred, or tried to stir, but her body was immobile. At first she didn't understand the limbo that trapped her. When the emergency core kicked in, she started experiencing her physical world in separate slices of information. First she became aware of rocks jutting into her side and grass tufts under her fingers. A trickle of wetness touched her lip and she could hear the feint plop of blood as it hit the dirt. The puff of dust it stirred tickled her nose.

Her memory returned in a rush as her implant spared her no imperfect detail. In her mind, she screamed and thrashed for release. In reality, her nose dripped a silent drop of blood into the dry layer of dirt.

Failure tasted bitter.

The catalyst had struck out with a power she had not thought possible. She had been touched by an unthinkable evil and had miscalculated with the wrong tactic. All was lost in a mere instant that stretched into a miserable lifetime from a wasted maneuver. And she was left to die in a broken body on a distant planet, disconnected from family and utterly alone with no escape.

She shrank from the physical and withdrew back into her mind. Panic hit her to be so alone. She thought such isolation brought insanity, but her synthetic encoding calmed her almost instantly. It was hard to remain panicked without the aid of limbs with an artificial intelligence calculating odds.

Despair was easier.

Her situation merited the tragic tears she could not shed. The Puchek sun would soon rise and suck every ounce of moisture from her pathetic body while oppressive humidity tortured every cell. Then the storm clouds would gather and torrents of water she could not drink would wash over her. If she were lucky, she would attract a large carnivorous creature that could end her suffering with a powerful snap of its jaws. No one would even know how she died, alone and insane.

She sobbed inwardly and calculated the odds that her world would beat her to insanity if she didn't warn them of her defeat.

Her calculations froze because she recognized her conundrum. The truth was simpler. She was a talented enabler, who could regenerate her link to the home world, escape her host's fate, and continue the hunt. But it would risk the insanity of her world if the catalyst bridged the link. That was unthinkable.

Only isolation stood between the catalyst and insanity—utter and lonely isolation—which was insanity all by itself and an intimate tormentor.

But she sensed something human.

Tentatively, she reached out with her organic senses and searched for them, forgoing the artificial link. For a moment, confusion blinded her because even though the man approached alone, he followed someone. The one she could not sense led him straight toward her.

With a rush, adrenaline hit her again and the emergency core reconnected her to tangible sensations. Her heart kicked furiously against her ribs and she felt the blood dripping from her nose.

_It was the catalyst! _

The catalyst's minion revealed his approach through an awareness of his physical presence. If her nerves hadn't been shattered, they would have betrayed her with trembling anticipation.

This was her chance, the moment her failed strategy triumphed. This was the time for the victim to become the weapon.

With the trap set, she waited.

When she heard the deeper tones of a male approaching, she powered down the link as far as she dared to avoid detection and her senses faded. She allowed herself a moment to gloat over how easy it had turned out to be. She may be a novice, but she was a talented novice and she would die a heroine.

The catalyst knelt next to her without touching her. He wore protective gloves that hindered the bond. Then a light hit her eye and she moaned in sudden terror of linking with the mad man. He had come to finish her off and was taking his time doing it. She imagined he saved her for some prolonged torture. And then his hands firmly felt her scalp.

It was the contact she needed.

Her hair, acting as physical links, bonded them through his exposed wrists and the upload took barely the briefest of seconds. She saw herself through his eyes as the link assembled in his temple and instantly realized her blunder even before his eyes could register the silver connectivity in her hair.

This was not the insane mind of Catalyst 24. This was a mistake. She would lose her A-ware virus protection to an untrained _drone_.

The artificial intelligence, her A-ware, would not heed her command. Her mistake was not its mistake. Its central command perceived her useless body as waste to be discarded on its quest. It finished duplicating her implant and sucked its power source almost dry as it uploaded into the drone. In the end, it abandoned her, too, leaving her adrift.

Terrified and exhausted from her effort, her mind numb and fading, she felt her former A-ware nudge a suggestion to his elbow and tease a firmer command to the energy cell that caused the light to wink out. It was enough time to withdraw from his confusion as her silver tendrils fell across her cheek. Her hair faded to its natural state while he fumbled with his equipment and the light returned.

The drone's words "Hang on," penetrated the fog closing in on her. It was reason enough to stir hope and live.

•

_Next Chapter, _Thirty Minutes to Dawn...


	2. Thirty Minutes to Dawn

**The A-ware** by Fandomatic

•

**Thirty Minutes to Dawn**

He anticipated the glow from the event horizon blowing out his night vision goggles. But the wave of heat and sticky humidity instantly plunked him light-years from Atlantis. Sheppard coped with the flair, the tunnel vision, and the oppressive heat while his team fanned out around the stargate in the dark morning hours on P2K-369.

Zelenka's description of _"a breezy 99° Fahrenheit tropical paradise_" rang in his ears again. The Czech deserved to get out more.

"Sheppard to Weir, we've secured the gate. We'll be sending the MALP back in a few minutes."

"_Good. We're still short until the Daedalus returns. Weir out." _

Behind him the gate shut down. "Okay, Rodney." Sheppard turned to find the astrophysicist with a flashlight hunched over the MALP like a common mechanic.

"Could it be any hotter?" Dr. Rodney McKay muttered. "How far is this ancient temple? We're going to need more water at this rate. Forget water. We need Gatorade. Look at me. We've been here all of two minutes and I'm drenched."

"McKay, the MALP?"

"Oh, yeah. I'm ready. It's ready. Ever…ready."

Teyla stepped up to the DHD and started dialing at Sheppard's signal.

Milky Way MALPs were hard to come by in the Pegasus Galaxy. Last year he'd been forced to assign low-priority MALP recovery missions just to send them back through the revolving door. Even the mangled ones were mined for spare parts. And they still didn't have the manpower to spare for MALP recovery. The renewed supply run from the Daedalus had made a significant dent in that shortage, but MALPs had a short life span and were subject to senseless violence.

"_Colonel, the MALP has arrived," _Weir announced.

"Copy that. Check in is in two hours. We're ready to move out."

"_Be safe, Colonel. Weir out."_

The liquid glow winked out leaving them in the light of P2K-369's secondary moon.

John waited for Dr. McKay to step up to the task of moving out. "Seriously, we don't have enough water." The scientist approached, fumbling with his gear.

"We have enough water," John contradicted easily. _Anything to keep him from thinking about Teyla's warning,_ he thought.

"Do you think the Puzeet are watching us?"

_Too late._ "Puchek. And, yes, they'd be fools not to keep an eye on their front door."

"Some of Earth's jungle tribes stake out their victims on ant beds. Do you think that's how the Pudeets deal with trespassers? That would take days to kill you, unless, of course, this being Pegasus and all, their ants actually sucked the life out of you."

"Focus on getting a power reading, McKay!" Sheppard snapped.

Rodney jumped and dug out the life signs detector. "It's just that me and barbaric tribes don't mesh so well," he muttered. "Not to mention _unreasonable_ climates."

"Teyla says this one's friendly."

"Yeah, until you visit their taboo temple."

"It could be an ancient outpost with a power source. Do you have a heading, yet?"

McKay pointed. "That way."

Lt. Col. Sheppard signaled his team forward and they spread out over the flat ridge, moving toward the promontory edge that raised it from the valley meadow twenty meters below.

In a fire fight, the stargate was in a highly defensible position, not really a home world advantage in a foothold situation. It concerned him for a moment to leave the gate unguarded, but the Puchek were agreeable folks who lived half a day's hike from the gate. They were agreeable except when it came to their temple. But the temple was closer and he intended to be faster.

Earlier, their discussion of possible power sources led Teyla to remember the Puchek address, which the ancient database cryptically noted as _Tempus_. Teyla's story of a taboo temple that the Puchek would not visit intrigued the team. With the possibility of an ancient power source at the temple, a MALP was launched. Telemetry confirmed a significant power spike and the team deployed.

Her warning about the taboo going so far as to merit death to trespassers had not quelled Dr. McKay's enthusiasm at the time. But the heat had dampened everyone's.

As they neared the ridge's steep slope, Sheppard calculated distances against a brightening horizon and judged their radio signal would reach the stargate with a clear view from the narrow valley snaking off between the mountains.

Because he looked toward their goal, he wasn't looking at his boots when he stumbled over the body hidden in the grass. _Damn tunnel vision,_ he thought as his adrenaline spiked and his weapon snapped around. On his knee, Sheppard covered the still form with his P90 and scanned the body with his goggles.

"What?" Ronon paused in his advance.

A nudge with the barrel told him the body was limp. He checked for a pulse. "I got a body here. Male. Recent kill." The neck radiated warmth to his fingers.

•

_TBC_

_Next chapter_, Edge of Exposure...


	3. Edge of Exposure

**The A-ware** by Fandomatic

•

**Edge of Exposure**

That ramped up McKay's stress. "Recent? Like how recent, because they could still be around and…all." He trailed off as Teyla brushed by him. He hurried to follow.

Sheppard rolled the man to his back and grunted with surprise. "No blood. No wound that I can see. Maybe _not_ a kill." _He looks peaceful?_

His team had gathered around the discovery with Ronan and Teyla taking up defensive positions. Teyla covered the gate and Ronon crested the promontory edge on point.

"Natural causes?" Rodney's voice had leveled with relief beside him.

"Not so natural." Ronon Dex jerked his head toward the horizon.

Sheppard mounted the rise and joined Ronon in surveying the meadow spread out under the secondary moon below them.

"Maybe forty or more," Sheppard murmured as McKay struggled up the incline between them blowing hard.

"Oh my God. Is that…" McKay exhaled explosively. "Are those _bodies?"_ He fumbled with the life signs detector and pushed up his goggles.

"Any survivors?" John asked him as Teyla mounted the crest brushing against his other shoulder. He sensed her stiffen beside him and he turned to silently squeeze her shoulder. A hitched breath revealed her fear of lost friends.

"Thirty meters, no life signs. I'm expanding the field." McKay's fingers worked the menu and brought up a new display. "There we go, one life sign, coming from over there." He pointed toward their two o'clock bearing, straight at the line of bodies. "About, uh…one click."

"One _click_?" John's surprise was obvious as he abandoned surveying the jungle edge in the indicated direction and shot McKay a startled look.

"Um, yeah. That's military speak for one kilometer." Uncertainty spoiled his delivery.

"I know what a _click_ is." _Weird_. Sheppard turned back to the meadow and compressed his lips. They stood on the edge of the flat ridge that divided a valley meadow below them. The meadow wrapped around both sides of the promontory that extended from the mountain behind them. Fallen bodies, cut down in mid-flight, extended to their right in a scattered pattern up to the tree line. Forty was a conservative estimate. It was still dark and the body trail led into the jungle. "We're not equipped for this. Where exactly is that life sign?"

Rodney McKay pointed to a break in the large leafed trees. "About twenty meters this side of the tree line. No movement, yet. Uh, I hate to bring it up, but it could be a predator, feeding, or something."

"It _could_ be a survivor," John snapped.

"Or one of the people that did this." McKay plowed on. "I mean, we have no way of telling who the perpetrators were, what their motive could be, where they're from, and what weapon to even look for—assuming they all look like the guy back there. For all we know, we could be getting lethal doses of a chemical aerosol right now or a weaponized virus that shuts down your nervous system like that." He snapped his fingers. Horror dawned in his eyes. "We need hazmat suits."

Sheppard sighed and dug in his tactical vest for an antiseptic wipe. "We've been exposed," he agreed and tore open the pack and wiped his hands. "I'm calling it. Let's get Beckett and Biro working on this." He thrust the trash into his pocket.

"If we are exposed, why would we need a hazmat suit?" Teyla asked Rodney.

"Might not fit me," Ronon pointed out hopefully.

"There might be lingering chemicals poisonous to us with prolonged exposure. The MALP didn't show any toxins in the atmosphere, but we're a good twenty meters up from the floor of the meadow, which might be protecting us from a full dose. This DRT's the only one that made it up here and he didn't…"

"McKay," Sheppard interrupted quietly. "They're not DRTs," And Rodney missed his point entirely as Teyla and Ronon set off back down the rise.

"Yes they are. They're dead right there. The life signs detector says so."

"A DRT is a smear of body parts and you wouldn't need the scanner to tell." He nudged Rodney after Ronon and Teyla. "And it's not nice." _Not to mention they're dead right there, there, there, there, and there._

Ronon reached the body and paused for a cursory examination. McKay sidestepped around the corpse staying well clear of any airborne agents, while Teyla knelt beside Ronon and tilted her head to the side to study his face. As Sheppard joined them, he realized the man had been headed toward the stargate.

He angled toward Teyla. "Recognize him?"

"He is not of the Puchek people." Her grimace showed distaste. "The garments are…unfamiliar."

"The hat?" John guessed as Ronon toed over a fur-rimmed hat that reminded him of Davy Crockett. _Hot clothing in a hot climate? Not indigenous._

"Synthetic," Ronon pronounced.

Sheppard's brow furrowed and he squinted at the hat through the goggles. "Damn if I can tell. Everything looks, well, _fake_ in the Pegasus Galaxy_._"

"What's synthetic?" McKay edged closer peering through his goggles.

"Ronon and I believe these garments are fake."

"Manufactured? Really? Then they're not LIPs." Rodney forgot his fear of the corporeal. "Do you know the level of technology this takes to produce polymers and manufacture artificial fur? I mean, this is twentieth century industry here."

His excitement was met with silence.

Industry brought the Wraith. And that perspective brought in an old suspect to the graveyard with a new weapon.

"Teyla, you sensing any Wraith?" John felt his skin crawl as Rodney bent over his life signs detector with renewed interest.

"No, Colonel."

"Rodney…?"

McKay brought up a broader scan and reported. "There's activity everywhere beyond the tree line. Multiple contacts, over twenty, but we're all reading as just one dot, so there could be hundreds."

"You're just telling me this _now?_" Sheppard rose and advanced on McKay.

"I assume they're animals. Teyla mentioned big monkeys. And they haven't been moving around."

"Monkeys or not, they're life signs, which _means_," John shoved his goggles onto his forehead and towered over the scientist, "toxic gas is bogus."

"They live in trees. The air differential could protect…"

"You just don't want to go _down_ there."

"I—" Rodney clamped his mouth shut and his chin lifted. "Yes," he snarled. "I don't want to go down there with the contagious, poisonous, toxic, lethal _whatever _that dropped over 40 people in their tracks, dead, DRT."

John narrowed his eyes. "Okay. Just so we're clear, 'the contagious, poisonous, toxic, lethal _whatever'_ is right _here_ under your _feet_."

"All the more reason to get protection now, return home through the hazmat condom and let Dr. Beckett practice his voodoo science."

In the following moment of silence, Sheppard reined in his temper and dropped his head briefly. "Did you just say 'hazmat condom?'"

Uncertainty tainted Rodney's "It's an SGC military term."

"It's 'stargate hazmat _protocol!_'"

"The marines say it all the time."

"No they don't."

"Well, not around you. What's the big deal? It's a big plastic tent attached to the gate which behaves exactly like a condom."

"All right, where are you getting all these _terms_ and _acronyms_?"

"Uh, Major Lorne has been giving me some pointers to help me fill out my mission reports."

"Major Lorne?" Colonel Sheppard swallowed and smothered a grin. _Evan's goosing me. Probably for sticking him with McKay who ended up in a 50-pound, class-one radiation suit._ Then he thought about those terms making it into McKay's mission report and Weir's likely reaction.

"Yeah, he wanted to make sure I could communicate properly in the field. Evidently, he didn't think much of my performance on P3M-736."

"Oh, he did, did he?" Sheppard crossed his arms and knew exactly how to fix the major. "Well, it's fine to use those terms when you're assigned to Major _Lorne's_ team because Coughlin and Reed are all from Earth, but Ronon and Teyla won't understand you, so stop it."

"Oh." Rodney still looked uncertain, like he'd missed something.

"Here's the way I see it." The colonel turned to his team. "We're under quarantine. Hazmat suits are a death sentence in this heat. Beckett and Biro are going to need bodies and any survivors to solve this. They also need facts. We have to check out the other bodies." He raised his hand toward Rodney because he'd opened his mouth. "We've assumed that they all look like this fellow. What if we're wrong?"

"I'll repeat myself." Rodney crossed his arms. "The most likely cause of an instant mass extinction is a chemical agent that is heavier than the atmosphere. Therefore it hugs the ground as it dissipates like a river, spreading and flowing toward the lowest point, leaving the 'monkeys' high in the tree canopy safe."

"Which doesn't account for _John Doe_!" John jerked a thumb toward the body.

"It could if the toxin was released through the stargate." McKay jerked his thumb toward the gate.

"Good point." Sheppard rocked back on his heels thoughtfully and then raised his finger. "The survivor."

"The _perpetrator_ might have a gas mask. Synthetics."

"Give me that thing." McKay's smug look disappeared as John took the life signs detector from him. "You're logic is flawed. They could have been stung by a swarm of jungle bees." He adjusted the detector to read smaller animals. "And the valley is _full_ of happy little jungle mice. See, no chemicals."

McKay's face fell. "Oh, right. Mock the dying man with death by bees."

"Ronon, you're with me. We're going to check out that life sign and secure the site. Rodney, you and Teyla head back to the gate and dial Atlantis. Stay on comms. Rodney, get the last fifty addresses off the DHD."

McKay only looked slightly relieved that the colonel didn't want him to go down into the graveyard with him. "What about hazmat gear? You can't go down there completely unprotected."

"Rodney, the mice are fine." John waved the ancient scanner in the air and turned toward the ridge. "We're already exposed. We need information." He settled the goggles back over his eyes and followed Ronon down the incline.

•

TBC

_Next chapter, _Death Valley...


	4. Death Valley

**The A-ware** by Fandomatic

•

**Death Valley**

Ronon paused to wait for him on the meadow floor. In quiet concession, the two men covered ground quickly with no more than a few hand signals between them. One of the nice things about Specialist Ronon Dex was his ability to follow orders without much more than a grunt, a welcome relief as they began to mentally catalog bodies.

After they had a look at a few of the victims as they waded into the silent graveyard, Sheppard tapped his comm. "This is Sheppard. So far all these people are dressed like the one near the gate and they don't have a mark on them."

"_Thank you, Colonel."_ Worry etched Teyla's voice. _"I am concerned this blight has reached the Puchek village."_

"Copy that." He was careful to promise nothing. Atlantis couldn't operate as the Pegasus police all the time. Although he thought Weir would want them to check it out, it wasn't a move he was willing to risk without cause because it represented a line Dr. Weir had drawn between them.

He actively scanned his surroundings with the night vision goggles and kept pace with Ronon who did the same ten paces to his left. The light on the horizon brightened as the sun rose and Ronon soon discarded his night vision. John pushed up his goggles with relief and his eyes adjusted to the dim light. With his peripheral vision returned, he felt some of the tension ease from his shoulders.

Ronon Dex had a solid presence in the field that he found companionable even though they hadn't said more than two words. The specialist held his council until Teyla notified him that they were activating the stargate.

"Don't think it's the Wraith," Ronon offered. "Why waste a food supply?"

John grunted in agreement.

"_Colonel, you are clear to contact Atlantis_," Teyla's voice announced the opening of the stargate.

"Sheppard to Dr. Weir."

"_John, you're early_."

"Elizabeth, we've found over 40 corpses within a kilometer of the gate. Initiate quarantine procedures for P2K-369 and patch me through to Dr. Beckett and Dr. Biro."

"_Copy that_." John heard her clipped commands to her team in the background. "_Dr. Beckett and Dr. Biro are on comm, John. What's going on?"_

"I'm putting P2K-369 under quarantine. We found over 40 bodies within a kilometer of the gate. Recently deceased. Rigor mortis has not set in. The bodies are still warm. No sign of any trauma on the victims and they seem to have collapsed at the same time on the way to the gate." Sheppard took a deep breath and continued as he walked. "Rodney's collecting addresses from the DHD because we suspect these guys aren't from this planet. They're wearing synthetic clothing. Ronon and I are following up on a possible survivor in the killing field." He paused to wipe the sweat from his brow with his wrist band. "Oh, and hazmat suits aren't an option in this heat, Doc. You wouldn't last ten minutes and the sun hasn't come up yet."

"_Aye, we can use the hazmat tent to get you back here, lad. I'll need to run tests on all o' ye. We'll set up quarantine in the observation lab. Do you have any information on the condition of the survivor?"_

Sheppard looked down at his scanner. "We're still getting there, Doc. No movement so far."

"_Dr. Biro here. I'm going to need at least three cadavers to determine the cause of death," _the pathologist's voice piped in enthusiastically_. "Preferably young adults in vigorous health. If Dr. Weir approves the use of a jumper, I can efficiently collect all the samples I need for my lab. The jumpers' closed environments make them suitable for hazmat containment and are perfect for refrigeration and storage. The cadavers will deteriorate rapidly with the onset of heat, and fresh samples are vital to discovery."_

"_Aye, we can operate out of the jumpers in hazmat suits if we can land near our patients. Refrigeration would give us some relief from the heat."_

"_Do it," _Dr. Weir's voice cut through the morbid image building in John's head._ "But the living get first priority."_

"You know, a ride in a refrigerated hearse sounds lovely," Sheppard quipped as he raised the ancient scanner and swept it to the left. "I believe Major Lorne is checked off on hazmat gear and flying hearses." He smiled, pointed to a crumpled form ahead of Ronon and slipped the scanner into his pocket. "Doc, our survivor is human."

"_Colonel, tell me what you see." _

John swung off his pack and dug out a pair of blue surgical gloves from one of the pockets. Beneath the fur-lined cowl he made out a feminine face. "Small female in her twenties, unconscious, looks like all the others—sprawled face down in the dirt—except," John frowned at the wet spot under her cheek, "She has a bloody nose."

Ronon grunted, signaled that he wanted to check the tree line, and moved off at Sheppard's nod.

"_Check her pupils."_

John unclipped his flashlight and the light blinded him momentarily. He blinked and recovered enough vision to continue his commentary. "She's responsive." The girl had whimpered when the light hit her eye. "Must hurt. She's moaning. Yep, her pupil's sluggish. Can't get to the other one without moving her. Doesn't look like she lost much blood. I don't see anything else wrong with her. Limbs look straight. No head…" His blue hands paused in mid-motion as he pushed back the cowl to feel her skull. There were no words to describe the tingling 'hiccup' he felt go through his body. A long lock of gleaming hair tumbled out, and just for a moment, before he bumped his flashlight and it abruptly failed, he thought it was silver. Not just old hair; _silver_ hair, the kind that was weighed by the ounce.

"Hang on." Completely blinded by the sudden darkness, John toggled the switch and the light came back on. The illumination dispelled any notion that her hair had been silver. It was just a very light blond. "Skull's intact. No head wounds that I can see or feel," he finished.

"_Is she having difficulty breathing?"_

John's fingers found her pulse from the carotid artery on her neck and he watched the dust stir around her face. "No, she's breathing through her mouth, but her heart's racing a marathon here."

"_How fast?"_

John started counting with an eye on his watch.

"_Colonel Sheppard._" Dr. Weir interrupted._ "Major Lorne tells me they'll be ready to go in six minutes."_

"Copy that. We're about a couple of Kilometers out on a two o'clock bearing. Doc, her heart rate's 146 beats per minute."

"_Keep her calm. I'm on my way now."_ Beckett signed off abruptly.

_Keep her calm?_ Sheppard looked down at the limp girl and wondered if Beckett had heard him say she was unconscious. "You're going to be all right." He patted her arm with his blue glove. "We're going to take good care of you. The best doctor in two galaxies is on his way and he'll fix you right up." He frowned at the errant lock of hair and muttered, "Might even be able to give your hair a _polish_ or me a nice, padded room."

After Weir cleared them to shut down the stargate, he returned to the task of securing the site and got up to look where Ronon Dex had gone. The beginnings of a wide trail leading into the jungle parted the break between the trees. He fished out the scanner and located Ronon moving toward him through the trees. _OR WHAT YOU THINK IS RONON._

Sheppard moved to cover the survivor and raised his P90 only to relax when Ronon stepped through the trees into the meadow. Ronon signaled the jungle was clear so John met the runner halfway to the trees, uneasy for a report.

A red hued sky brewed on the horizon and diffused Ronon's face with a soft glow. They both ignored the weird melodious call that interrupted their peace and progressed to a chaotic chorus of chirps.

"Anything back there?" Sheppard greeted him.

"About thirty-five more bodies on the trail. I count about 83."

"The trail goes straight in?" With Ronon's nod, he raised his scanner to check the area. "Nothing there," John shook his head grimly and put away the LSD.

The Colonel's attention centered on the young woman and his brow creased. "Are you seeing stuff?"

"Yeah, I got eyes."

"No. I mean things that aren't really there." The two started back toward the survivor.

Ronon snorted. "Do you want me to kick the bodies for you? I think they're real."

_Sarcasm?_ John chose to ignore the perverse fact that Ronon's idea of checking sanity included kicking the dead. Instead, Rodney's fears rose like an apparition in the back of his mind. _MAYBE IT WAS A HALLUCINOGENIC AGENT?_ "You feel any different since we came down here?"

"I'm fine." Dex eyed him dubiously.

"Just checking." He looked at his blue gloves and could feel the sweat collecting in the tips. _IT MUST HAVE BEEN A TRICK OF THE MOONLIGHT._ He stripped off the gloves and searched the brightening sky for the overdue jumper. His search for air conditioning was rewarded with a flash of metal as Teyla informed them that Atlantis had dialed in.

John took a good pull from his canteen as they waited for the jumper to get to them and deploy the medical team.

"I've been wondering," Ronon's burr interrupted, "Who's John Doe?"

Sheppard choked.

•

_TBC_

_Next chapter, _Dawn...


	5. Dawn

**The A-ware** by Fandomatic

•

**Dawn**

As Lt. Col. Sheppard watched the jumper hatch open a few yards away, he realized that without hazard gear, he and Ronon Dex were going to be pretty useless. As an experienced field officer, Evan Lorne had been out in the galaxy long before he'd been bounced to Antarctica, and he'd have it all pretty well covered. The only thing left to do would be guard duty.

He found his eyes turning toward the path into the jungle more than once as he waited with Ronon. To wrap this up properly, the trail of bodies needed to be followed back to their source and the trail roughly pointed in the heading of the temple, which was something they'd come to check out anyway. The urge to discover the source of all this carnage pulled him in its direction.

John shook his head. _Talk about another career limiting move._ Weir would have him sliced up for breakfast if he pulled that again. She had highlighted the line between their duties clearly.

But this was different. This was _his_ territory and his instincts told him the bodies were casualties, struck down in battle.

A niggling doubt about breaking quarantine tipped the balance back in favor of staying put.

Major Lorne and Dr. Beckett waddled out of the puddle jumper in their blue hazard gear and made a beeline for Sheppard. Teyla stepped down from the ramp and took up a watchful post near the door. Sheppard assumed Rodney didn't care to wander among the dead and waited in blissful air conditioning.

"She's right over here, Doc."

"Aye." As Dr. Carson Beckett approached, his muffled Scottish burr inquired, "Wha' about you, Colonel? Feeling all right?"

"I'm good."

Beckett turned to wave at his paramedics with the stretchers before he took out a scanner to check for spinal damage in his new patient. Sheppard, Lorne and Dex gave him plenty of clearance for him to do his job.

"Colonel."

"Major."

Evan Lorne reported, "Biro's going to stack them three high. We're going to have standing room only on the return trip. Beckett only wants to make one pass through containment."

Sheppard nodded and noticed Lorne was sweating like a fountain. Lorne had hiked his gloved hands up on his hips in an attempt to cool his armpits which John knew didn't work in a rubber suit. It should have made him smile, but goosing the major didn't seem as important. "Makes sense."

He did a quick count of the bio hazard suits pouring out of the jumper hatch. The shortest in charge, Biro, had two flunkies following her as she bobbed like an excited chipmunk around the bodies. Beckett had two paramedics assigned to him. Room was going to be tight with eleven passengers, one patient and five cadavers.

"But it'd make more sense to take our guest to the Alpha site," Sheppard noted dispassionately. He frowned at his coldness and his eyes drifted to the jungle path again. It had sounded reasonable until he'd said it.

The Scottish surgeon looked up from his patient, alarmed. "I don't have the equipment tae treat her there, Colonel! She has a head injury and my scanner shows a considerable amount of nerve damage. I need tae get her under the Atlantis scanners tae even know wha's happened tae the lass."

With an effort, Sheppard brought his eyes and thoughts back to the survivor. "It's a security risk to the city. We just can't go around bringing everyone home. We have protocols in place."

"Dr. Weir's already approved it," Lorne offered.

His sudden flush of anger startled him. Respect for territory went two ways. The trail into the jungle beckoned. "How much time do you need here, Doc?"

"She's not critical. I want to immobilize her and get an IV in. Biro's team needs more time to collect samples and bodies. She said about thirty minutes." Beckett sighed. "We'll have to take shifts in this bloody heat."

"Well, do what you can for her. Lorne, you're in charge of the site. Meanwhile, Ronon and I are going to check out the temple while we're here. That's our source. I'll check back with you in thirty minutes. You can pick us up when you're done."

"Yes, sir."

"Colonel! I need tae get blood samples. You cannae go running off—"

"Sorry, Doc. You'll have to wait." Sheppard struck out for the path with determined purpose and signaled Ronon to come with him.

Behind him he heard Beckett swear and order Lorne to dial Atlantis and call Elizabeth. The lower, placating tones of Lorne were lost to him, but the Doctor's carried clearly across the field.

"Son, this is a _medical quarantine_ and I'm in charge!"

Sheppard didn't worry about Evan Lorne disobeying orders. The major's current gear handicapped any initiative. He also knew his detour would almost be over and the question moot by the time Elizabeth got involved. It felt invigorating to be _doing_ something even though he knew Dr. Weir would fume with his preemptive decision. That wasn't like him. _THE HEAT'S GETTING TO YOU, JOHN._

Ronon entered the canopy ahead of him on point, dodging bodies. "What's at the temple?"

"Damn if I know." And Sheppard didn't look back.

•

Weir repeated Lorne as her face flushed with heat and her eyes flashed. "He broke quarantine?" She turned away from the control room as techs manning the consoles ducked their heads, suddenly very focused on their work.

"_Well, they'll be there before we're done ... here." _

It was lame and Elizabeth could hear the wince in his voice. "Thank you, Major. Keep the gate open while I visit with Colonel Sheppard." Dr. Elizabeth Weir, the Atlantis Expedition Leader, nodded curtly at the new technician. "Patch me through on a secure channel, Chuck. I'd like to keep this somewhat private." She moved away from the group toward the balcony. The sea breeze cooled her cheeks as Chuck cleared her to talk.

"Colonel Sheppard, this is Dr. Weir."

"_Sheppard here."_

"John, what are you doing?"

"_I'm following up on an investigation." _

"You're breaking quarantine."

"_That's debatable. Look, we know this group was traveling from the temple. We're useless at the extraction site but we're not if we use our mobility and take a look at the source, which let me remind you, was our mission in the first place."_

"Colonel, that temple is the least of my concerns right at this moment. You are Beckett's patient. This is _his_ expertise. If this…_thing_…makes you sick, how is he supposed to treat you when you're off on a detour?"

"_Elizabeth, I feel great and we're not sick. If I don't go check out the source now, we could miss the thing that killed eight-three people. We still need information and this is a small risk to put boots on the site while the rest of the team's busy at the graveyard. We don't even know how widespread this thing is. Look, Lorne can make a flyby over the Puchek village to see if they survived and then he can pick us up on the way back, that's maybe ten extra minutes, an acceptable risk." _

As usual, Sheppard had missed her subtle message or chose to ignore it. "The fact is, Beckett is in charge and you taking off without consulting him undermined his authority."

"_The fact is, we both know that after we leave here, we're not coming back anytime soon. It's a reasonable risk and Beckett can't make those calls."_

Weir paused. _So he knew it and did it anyway. _"We've had this conversation before. It's _my_ decision."

"_How is this risk anymore risky than letting a stranger we know nothing about into Atlantis?"_

"Is that what this is about?"

"_No. You break protocol for the same reasons I do, but this is my turf and I know what I'm doing. You have to trust me in the field, Elizabeth."_

Elizabeth closed her eyes. "John, this is different. We don't even know what we're dealing with."

"_Exactly my point. So let me do my job."_

Weir sighed. The colonel's plan wouldn't interfere with the extraction more than a few minutes if it went off without a hitch. And he wasn't giving her any options, short of ordering him back. "Okay, John. Don't make me regret this. I'll talk to Beckett."

Weir signed off and returned to the control room. Something seemed off to her, but she couldn't put her finger on it.

•

TBC

_Next chapter, _A-ware...


	6. Aware

**The A-ware** by Fandomatic

•

**A-ware**

Sheppard felt good. He felt even better than when he'd arrived, fresh, on Puchek over an hour ago. The sweat had soaked through his tee shirt to permeate his vest, but it didn't bother him. Those kinds of things rarely did. The morning air on the jungle path was oppressive without a breeze, but it was out of the direct rays of the rising Puchek sun. Already, Puchek's cloudless sky had brightened to a vivid clear blue day. Its dim light penetrated deep under the canopy of tropical leaves casting dark shadows over the dirt road beneath their rhythmic tread. He swiped his wet arm across his brow, feeling the cooling sensation of shed heat.

And he was bursting with energy.

Sheppard and Dex trotted at a fast clip along the broad path toward the temple. Even though the trees blotted out the rising sun, the breadth of the road let in enough light to navigate. John let Dex set the pace twenty meters ahead and kept up with him without complaint as they made excellent time along the well-maintained road.

Even Weir's objections hadn't bothered him. He did slow down to explain his agenda, but it all seemed so clear to him. The temple presented the clearest objective and the risk was minimal. Weir couldn't see it because she simply wasn't there. More often than not, aggression in the field was what it took to stay alive in Pegasus. He dismissed her council as short-sighted and overprotective.

Twenty minutes into their journey, they rounded a corner and burst into the enclosed clearing of the temple. It brought Dex and then Sheppard to an abrupt halt as they surveyed the odd site. Ronon panted hard and opened his canteen for a drink while the colonel covered the ancient building with his P90 breathing easily and a bit overwhelmed with the ghastly vision that squatted in the vines.

"That can't be ancient." Sheppard grimaced at the structure.

"Barbaric," agreed Ronon.

The Temple was overgrown with jungle vines and the path led straight up to its corner. If someone had taken a playing die, merged it with a toy jack, then expanded it to a massive scale, it could have served as the model for the building before them. Sheppard couldn't describe it more than to think "boxy with spikes," since every plane had a steeple jutting out of its center. A raised, circular relief surrounded the spires with ancient runes embedded as decorations. Otherwise, the lack of curves and refreshing angles made it astonishingly ugly and odd for an ancient building.

Ronon was right. It looked barbaric.

Ronon finished drinking and joined Sheppard in circling the square building, climbing over fallen trees and brush, looking for an entrance and gawking at the massive spikes high overhead. The spires defied the law of gravity as they jutted out in every direction. Draped in green swaths of nature, the tangled vines seemed to embrace the unnatural. They reemerged on the path seeing nothing that looked like a door since the entire building had the same four sides.

"Teyla said the Puchek never come here, right?" Ronon looked down the path the way they had come.

"Right."

"Then how come the road's still here?"

Sheppard grunted, acknowledging Ronon's observation and walked straight up to the corner to examine the runes decorating it. "Because someone from the stargate comes here," John agreed. He recognized the matching catch stones that were to either side of the corner edge and placed his hands on both stones and pushed. The corner door parted on the corner seam and withdrew into the walls.

"How'd you know to do that?" Ronon's voice spoke over his shoulder and echoed back from the cavernous room.

"It's like traveling in Europe." Sheppard stepped into the doorway. "Doorknobs come in all sizes. Stay here and guard the door while I check it out."

As soon as Sheppard stepped inside, out of the doorway, the lights came on. His step faltered as satisfaction suffused his thoughts. Sheppard felt inordinately pleased to complete such a simple task. _HAVING THE GENE MADE THINGS LIKE TURNING ON THE AIR SO MUCH SIMPLER._ The doors slid closed, locking Ronon out, and a cold puff of air ruffled his messy hair. The contented feeling abruptly faded.

"What the hell?" John growled and faced off against the closed corner. Nothing but an empty corner greeted him. _This is weird._

"Ronon?" Sheppard shouted and leaned against the corner thinking, _Open!_ He listened for a response and examined the walls, looking for a 'doorknob.' "Ronon!" He couldn't hear anything from the outside, only the familiar hum of ancient machinery.

He turned around and looked at the temple interior he'd been so intent on getting to. With a sickening sensation blooming in his stomach, he closed his eyes remembering the quick anger that had started him down this path. His anger had completely discounted the fact that he'd left the quarantine site under the protection of a handicapped major and Teyla Emmagan. Everything about this side trip suddenly felt wrong: arguing with Weir, ditching Beckett, leaving Rodney, even the anger.

_I did not just do that!_ That wasn't like him to act on anger. Not when lives were at stake. "Good one, John," he snarled to himself. He'd behaved like a juvenile and now he was stuck in a square room without an exit, serving a forced timeout.

When his eyes finally registered the strangeness of the room, he shoved his regrets about leaving Rodney and the scientists into the background.

And he needed Rodney here because a circular bank of six ancient control consoles spread around the perfectly square room and they were all activated. Even stranger than the working consoles were the six spires jutting inward from all four sides, the ceiling and the floor, each mirroring the exterior spires as their thinner cousins. Where the spires met in the middle—high in the center of the room—held between the tips of the pincers, rested a small, softly glowing red crystal, which seemed to be the purpose of the room.

"Sheppard to Rodney," John cued his headset. He got nothing but static. "Ronon, can you hear me?" Dex didn't reply. He tried to think open the door again, but the door still wouldn't respond. _TRY THE CONSOLE CONTROLS. _

_I'm not that desperate…yet,_ Sheppard snorted and took a turn around the room looking at the glowing controls and the spikes overhead. The spire structures had a repetitive pattern etched on their surface. He walked around the center spike, still impressively massive, thrusting up from the center of the floor. His boot crossed over the patterned tile and he froze in mid-step as he noticed the floor pattern resembled a gate symbol. _IT'S A GATE ADDRESS._

He backed up and followed the circular pattern around the obelisk on the floor. _Six symbols. Definitely a gate address._ Sheppard gazed traveled up to the wall pincers overhead and he noted that they each had a different address tiled around the base at a scale so large it became randomly decorative. Even the inverted ceiling steeple had an address.

_IF EVERYTHING'S TURNED OFF, THE DOOR MIGHT OPEN. _

Sheppard turned his attention back to the corner door and wondered if that was the stupidest idea he'd ever come up with or if it was instinct guiding him. "You know, the first rule of intergalactic travel is never, never, never, _never_ touch the controls," Sheppard reminded himself as he approached one of the consoles and laid his P90 down on it. "Here goes…" He touched the surface with the clear thought that he wanted to open the corner door.

_EMERGENCY POWER DOWN. _Immediately, the consoles started powering down in sequence outward.

"I didn't do that." John jerked his hand back and took a look at the corner door that remained a corner. All motion drained from his body as he considered the cause. "What the hell's going on?"

_THE TEMPLE INTERFERES WITH COMMUNICATION. _

_That's not me._ The taste of fear filled his mouth as Sheppard cautiously picked up the P90. The shot of adrenaline flooded his fingertips, even though he recognized on a conscious level that this fight wasn't going to be physical. But he could deny the terrifying aloud. "Who's there?"

_I AM YOUR ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE AND I AM HERE TO GUIDE YOU. _

The sinking feeling grew in the pit of his stomach along with a deeper fear. That inner voice had an edge that was just off. He realized he'd been hearing it since the jumper landed. A foreign feeling that tainted his thoughts with whispered fears and nudged his decisions with suggestions. It was rooting around in his private thoughts, manipulating him while stirring up trouble with his friends. And worst of all, making him lose control with juvenile bursts of emotion. "Guide me to what?" Suspicion tinged Sheppard's voice.

_CATALYST 24. YOU WILL LIKE HUNTING HIM._

Sheppard thought he didn't like anything about this conversation at all.

_THAT'S BECAUSE THE TEMPLE IS SPLINTERING US._

"'Communication.' 'Guide.' 'Splintering.' You got a lot of buzz words for taking over free-will," John muttered.

_OUR PURPOSE IS ONE._

"No, you've hijacked me. How?"

Suppressed, a vivid memory of a tingling hiccup caused the hairs to rise on his arms. The memory of the silver-haired survivor and the intimate contact screamed through his brain as something he should immediately tell Dr. Beckett. The memory was confusing because it had been shared and stolen from him.

His jaw muscles jumped with fury. "How does the temple separate us?"

_THE PHASE CRYSTAL CANNOT SEPARATE, ONLY SPLINTER._

His green eyes leapt upward with instant hope to the dull red crystal high in the center of the room. It had lost its luster and its edges were no longer crisp. If he took it with him, the AI couldn't take over or control his emotions. He wouldn't be reduced to a juvenile in puberty. He'd be in control.

_THAT'S NOT TRUE._

"You lied about the door opening," Sheppard said and approached the base of the lower spike. He laid his P90 on the floor. Surface gaps in its design rose at regular intervals from the floor and he wedged in a toe-hold to boost himself up. It was simply a matter of holding his upper body against the steeple with his arms as he climbed the center obelisk. When he reached out his hand for the crystal, it floated toward his fingers, straight through the tip of the pincers and into his palm.

Sheppard looked at the curious object that slid sideways in and out of his sight. Curiously, he could not feel the surface of the crystal. It seemed to float, hovering millimeters from his hand. He wiggled his fingers, poking at it with one and his finger went right through it with a prickly feeling.

_PUT IT BACK._

_Fat chance._ John opened a tac vest pocket, one handed, and guided the stone toward it. He slipped it in and smoothed down the Velcro flap. But the crystal didn't stay there. It phased right through the fabric and hovered, centered just inches over his chest. When Sheppard reached to retrieve it, his fingers repelled the red crystal and it sank slowly into his breast. _Oh, crap!_

_OUR PURPOSE IS ONE, JOHN SHEPPARD! _

John heard the AI's shout of triumph as his vision flickered like a light switch between the solid view of the room and the transparent view of the temple walls. Outside he could see the ghost of Ronon Dex pound the catch stones with frustration. Then a prickly hiccup starburst through his mind and knocked him off the steeple, unconscious, to the floor.

•

TBC

_Next chapter, _Hostilities_… _


	7. Hostilities

**The A-ware** by Fandomatic

•

**Hostilities**

Dr. Rodney McKay's head snapped up so fast he thought he'd pinch a nerve. The laptop, plugged into his jumper station, wobbled and settled, abandoned, on the Jumper chair. Rodney opened the bulk head doors to a morbid scene of body bags stacked three deep on a hastily constructed framework over the jumper benches. He pushed through Biro's team and opened the back hatch to loud objections which he waved aside. He found Evan Lorne sweating on the shady side of the jumper near one more stretcher with a corpse ready to pack into a body bag.

"Major Lorne, we've got a problem."

Evan's mask had droplets of sweat running down the face plate interior and he looked miserable and unimpressed. "What kind of problem?"

"The power signature I was reading on the ancient site just plummeted to nothing and then vanished."

But he could see Lorne missed the significance of this development with his prompt,"So?"

And I just picked up a large group of life signs headed toward it, fast, from the lower valley. I think Sheppard must have done something, turned the power off, alerted the natives." Rodney fidgeted as Lorne checked his watch on the outside of his rubber glove and frowned with concern. It was five minutes to check in, but the natives on the move had finally prodded the major into action, so Rodney's mind turned to other regrets.

"He should've taken me with him." Dr. McKay plunged on, "If I know Sheppard, he's been humping it. Why else would he leave me here?" He followed the major a few steps toward the rear hatch and almost bumped into him as Lorne switched channels on his hand-held radio and hailed Sheppard with his back to McKay.

"Something's happened," Rodney worried, a step behind him. "He probably blew open a door; damaged something. You military types always want to blow up everything."

Lorne signaled him to hold while they listened to Ronon respond to his hail.

"_This is Ronon. Sheppard's locked inside the temple and he's not responding."_

"Ronon, we've picked up a group, inbound to you from the village. I wouldn't count on them being friendly." The major turned to Rodney. "How much time do they have?"

"Maybe twenty minutes."

Evan winced. "You've got about twenty minutes before they reach you."

"_I can't get the door open. I think it's gene-sensitive."_

"We could be there in three minutes," McKay agitated at his elbow. "I can get the door open."

"We're inbound to you in five minutes. If you could scout out a spot to land, that'd be helpful. Lorne out." The major switched channels. "Dr. Beckett, you have exactly two minutes to lift-off. We have inbound hostiles."

Dr. Biro, who'd overheard Lorne, came charging out of the jumper with her team to collect the body.

"Leave it, Dr. Biro. We don't have time. You'll be in the way. You need to help Dr. Beckett secure his patient in the other bunk." Lorne's instruction sent her off with an energetic burst and he turned to Rodney. "Dr. McKay, keep an eye on your readings and advise me if anything changes. And be prepared to lift off."

Rodney's eyes widened and he looked at Evan's rubber gloves. The major had planned on Sheppard flying them back and now he was the pilot by default.

Rodney retreated into the blissfully freezing cockpit as the civilian contingent scurried over the site, collecting odd pieces of equipment. Beckett's team went into high gear and carried the survivor toward the back hatch while Rodney sat down in the pilot's seat. Lorne joined him and the cool air rushed out of the forward compartment as the scientists noisily packed in, stepping over each other with more concerted collaboration than he'd thought possible for voodoo practitioners in bio hazard gear.

When Teyla cleared them for lift off, McKay closed the hatch and the jumper went airborne with the HUD filling the screen, tracking the moving hostiles. Rodney concentrated on flying and tried to ignore the jostling and murmurs as the team found seats and straps to hold onto.

"Major," Teyla's voice interrupted his concentration, "the Puchek could not have traveled so far since dawn. Their village is a half day's journey from the gate."

"Well, there's no question they survived," Lorne responded pointing at the HUD. "That's a war party with scouts."

Minutes later the puddle jumper flew over the temple site headed toward Ronon's signal from a small clearing. McKay guided the ship in on a straight drop through the trees. Even then, Rodney had to ease carefully by a large branch blocking his flight path.

"McKay...," Lorne warned an instant before the resounding crack of limbs breaking and falling under them brought a nervous silence to the scientists working in the back.

"I got it. I got it." But the popping and scraping continued outside.

"Left!"

"Hold on..."

"No, your other left!"

"If you want to drive, you're welcome to take the gloves off!" Rodney half turned and the jumper swung into the top branches of the canopy.

"Look out!"

The branch hit the window and McKay flinched backward. It was the wrong reaction since the puddle jumper responded and jerked into reverse. Seconds later the muffled oaths in the rear compartment were drowned out by the crashing limbs underneath as Rodney forced a clear cut straight down to the ground leaving a giant hole in the treetops.

McKay landed on the branch and the cracking and popping continued until the jumper listed to the side and settled ten degrees to the left. From inside, it looked like they'd landed on a slope since the tilt didn't affect the gravity field inside the jumper.

"See? That wasn't so bad." The astrophysicist turned and caught Lorne's glare.

"Teyla, you're up with McKay." Lorne pointedly ignored him. "No time for heroics. You got ten minutes, tops."

McKay grabbed his pack and headed toward Ronon who didn't bother to wait and turned to lead them up the path and around a curve. Rodney trotted out the back hatch and almost lost his balance as the world tilted wildly and righted itself. Instantly his stomach lurched in the opposite direction of his feet with the abrupt gravity rotation.

"Oh, God! I'm never, never, never gonna eat before a mission, _ever_ again!" He grabbed his stomach and ran after Ronon.

The jumper had landed on a broader section of the trail. With just a few turns of the path they were suddenly at the temple.

For a moment, McKay gaped at its ugly, squat design which reminded him of filleting tips on a barbaric set of num chucks. Immediately his stomach, still unsettled from the gravity shift, twisted in dread. Teyla nudged him and they joined Ronon at the corner. He didn't have time to consider his rising paranoia.

"Sheppard put his hands here and here and the door opened," Ronon demonstrated and then drew aside for the scientist.

"Okay." The astrophysicist put his hands on the same stones. They moved easily and the door depressed and parted to either side. Cool air drifted past them. Inside, near the center obelisk, Sheppard sprawled flat on his back with his arms flung outward. "Maybe we can get a log to prop this door open, Ronon," McKay suggested as he dug out his life signs detector. If Sheppard had gotten trapped in the room, he wasn't about to make the same mistake, so he hovered in the doorway trying to get a reading from the room with his scanner.

"I will go to the colonel." Teyla stepped past him and hurried to Sheppard's side. "He is breathing," she called over her shoulder.

"That's a relief." And McKay immediately stopped worrying about Sheppard and turned his mind to the odd behavior of the scanner. He extended it outside the door, bringing it back with a curious, "huh." Then he put the scanner up and pulled out his camera to begin recording the unusual structure.

Meanwhile, Ronon dragged a minor tree up to the doorway and dropped it on the threshold at Rodney's feet. "_We …_ got something."

"That's a tree, Ronon! I said _log!_ What's with you and oversized doorstops?"

"Fine. Get your own next time."

"It's in the way! It still has branches attached!"

"I thought that was the point."

Unmindful of Ronon's snit and still grumbling, Rodney stepped over the broken trunk and took a quick turn around the room with the camera before he dug out the computer tablet. While he plugged it into the nearest ancient console, he kept an eye on Teyla as she checked over Sheppard's vitals and pulled an eyelid back.

The colonel groaned and raised his hand to stop her. "Teyla?"

"Be still. You were unconscious."

John ignored her and cautiously raised himself on his elbows to look around. "Where are we?"

"We are at the Puchek temple."

"What? How'd we get here?" His alarm pulled Rodney away from his programming.

Ronon growled, "We ran." The open doorway cast Dex's shadow across the floor and John stared up in disbelief at the Setedan.

"Ran?" Lt. Col. Sheppard rose to his feet and glared. "Whose crazy idea was that?" His fixed expression frowned on each of them in turn and his team stared back, baffled and silent. Even Rodney had momentarily ceased working. "Well? What happened? Why'd you drag me all the way here?"

Teyla and Ronon exchanged that _look_, the look reserved for the Pegasus moment, and then looked at Rodney as if he could explain it. He shrugged and turned to the Ancient consoles that might have more answers once he sifted through the data.

"What is the last thing you remember?" he heard Teyla ask.

John hesitated. "We came through the gate, found the first body and then Ronon and I were walking through Death Valley."

"You have lost almost an hour of memory."

Rodney glanced up to see how Sheppard was taking that. He was scowling despite Teyla's calming hand on his arm. "Perhaps this temple has something to do with it. We could not raise you on the comms."

"The building interferes with radio signals, among other things," Rodney offered distractedly and turned back to his tablet. "Even the scanner won't work in here. Some unusual alloy."

"Regardless, Colonel, we do not have that much time," Teyla reported. "The Puchek tribes are almost here. Their advance scouts were only a few kilometers away when we landed the jumper on the trail."

"Rodney, pack it up." Instantly shifting gears, Sheppard picked up his P90 and signaled Ronon to check outside the door.

"But I just—" The physicist broke off when John glared at him. "Fine," he grumbled as he stashed his equipment and joined Teyla when Ronon signaled the all clear.

As soon as Rodney stepped through the corner door, Major Lorne's voice greeted them. "—oaching on our 5 o'clock."

"Sheppard here. Repeat that."

"_Good to hear you, sir. You have three hostiles approaching to our 5 o'clock about two hundred meters."_

Sheppard looked to Ronon who pointed behind the temple. "Copy that. We're headed back." John grabbed Rodney's arm and pushed him toward the path. He pointed at Teyla and ordered, "Get moving, _fast. _We'll bring up the rear."

Instead, Rodney pulled at the branch in the doorway. "The log! We need to protect the interior. Help me with this ... God, why'd he have to drag up a _tree?_"

"McKay!" Sheppard growled and pushed him again. "I'll get it. Now go!"

Rodney McKay dropped his hold on the oversized limb and gladly raced after Teyla as Sheppard heaved on the tree behind him. Then the bend in the path blocked his view of Sheppard's struggle and Teyla grabbed his arm to hurry him along.

Only minutes down the path, he heard Sheppard call for cover fire and the peaceful jungle erupted with the staccato sound of a P90 discharging. The sound of Ronon's gun took over where the controlled burst left off.

Theoretically, Rodney knew exactly what they were doing as they laid down covering fire in a leap frog formation. The two soldiers had performed the basic maneuver countless times, but the sounds always panicked him and his legs pumped harder toward the safety of the jumper that he glimpsed, beckoning between the giant leaves.

The jumper sat, listed to the side, with its back hatch open toward them. Tilted at an angle, Major Lorne waved a blue rubber arm for him to hurry up as if Rodney wasn't hurried enough.

McKay pounded up the ramp next to the major and lurched straight into Lorne who had bizarrely pivoted into his path without moving. The major caught him as they reeled with the jumper's gravity shift into a cluster of blue hazmat suits. Ignoring his sudden confusion, Lorne grabbed his arm and maneuvered him toward the forward compartment between the rows of tense scientists. He realized Lorne was yelling at him to move it as he was shoved into the pilot's chair before Lorne sat down at the copilot's station.

"I'm moving," Rodney protested as he powered up the jumper.

Seconds later, Sheppard's voice cracked over the comms. "We're coming in hot. Get ready to take off on my command!"

McKay peered back through the row of scientists as Sheppard reached the jumper, automatically adjusted to its tilt, and flipped around to fire another burst behind him as Dex pounded down the path and hit the ramp. "Now, Major!" The jackhammer sound of the P90 filled the small compartment as Ronon hit the side wall with a thud.

McKay didn't need Lorne's encouragement as he slapped the hatch control in sync with Ronon's entrance. As the hatch slowly closed, two projectiles whistled past and both darts lodged in one of the cadavers Dr. Biro had collected. The hatch hissed closed as McKay concentrated on lifting them straight up toward the tree canopy.

The small pings of darts and arrows hit the ancient craft as it ascended toward the sky. Then branches filled the window and the scraping and snapping limbs overwhelmed the sounds of any projectiles hitting.

A sudden silence heralded their freedom from the jungle. Through the window he spotted the gate rising on the promontory under an early morning sun. It represented safety and McKay sped the jumper toward its security.

"There goes _that_ sample," Biro's muffled annoyance broke the silence.

"Bloody containment's been breached, too," Beckett added.

"Damn, it's _freezing_ in here!" Sheppard's voice sounded clear in contrast to the masked scientists.

"Well, any contusions, scrapes, or bumps from your little jaunt?" Dr. Beckett's frosty voice matched the interior temperature.

"I'm fine."

The sounds of silent shifting accompanied John's and Ronon's approach to the forward compartment. Lorne half rose but Sheppard waved him back into the copilot's seat and leaned over to grip McKay's shoulder.

"Nice flying there, Rodney," Sheppard commented dryly, "for a tree trimmer."

"I was just a bit winded!" he protested and the jumper veered right and dropped toward the valley floor.

"Look where you're going," Evan yelped as the ridge loomed in the window.

"Okay! I'm looking!" Rodney snapped at Lorne's flushed face inside the mask. "And for future reference, you don't have to yell at me. I'm not deaf and this is not rocket science!"

"It's been a long ... morning..., guys. Let's go home." Sheppard patted Rodney's shoulder and dialed the Atlantis address as the jumper flew toward the stargate promontory. Something shinny caught Rodney's eye as Sheppard's hand flashed over the DHD, but he forgot it as a chorus of yells erupted around him.

_"Rodney!_"

•

TBC

_Next chapter, _Quarantine_…  
_


	8. Quarantine

**The A-ware** by Fandomatic

•

**Quarantine **

_The pain shot along John's nerves through the right side, vibrating the endings with prolonged agony. The agony multiplied and a roar ripped from his throat. The transformation was instant. His inner lid slid open sideways revealing a bug-eyed view of the Atlantis embarkation room. The room burst with people. _

_Strangers. They were all strangers and they pressed forward curiously._

_An emaciated form shoved them aside. Sumner's husk of a body, bleeding from the heart, pointed at Sheppard accusingly. _

The awakening was awkward.

Teyla Emmagan squeezed his shoulder quietly. He had fallen asleep on the couch next to her and ended up on her shoulder. They were both dressed in white scrubs. "The others are asleep. You were dreaming."

"Sorry." Sheppard moved away to the far side and tilted his head back against the couch to see if anyone watched from the observation deck of their quarantine. A few technicians drifted between the monitors.

McKay and Ronon took up two of the beds brought in for their use. Dex's feet jutted off the end and Rodney slept in a face plant. Next to them His bed beckoned, but he liked Teyla's warm company.

Little else had been warm about Weir's or Beckett's reception. He'd been filled in on what happened by his team, but he couldn't get past the fact that he'd left Lorne and Teyla alone with a jumper and two teams of scientists to guard. That had been reckless.

Beckett hadn't even thawed a little when Teyla told him the colonel was found unconscious. Rodney added that Sheppard probably electrocuted himself when he shorted out the temple. Evidently the temple spikes had been covered in power warning patterns. And when Ronon wrapped it up with short-term memory loss, Carson lit into him for "withholding medical information."

John nudged her knee with his foot and then propped them up on the little coffee table next to McKay's laptop. "Did you get any sleep?"

She smiled faintly and tucked her legs under her. "A little." She hesitated. "What does 'grounded' mean?"

Sheppard flushed and looked up at the observation deck again. Weir still hadn't come by since they'd been moved. "It means I'm not allowed to fly."

"Dr. Beckett can do this?"

John sighed. He didn't want to discuss this. Technically, he was grounded every time he returned from a mission until Beckett cleared him. Carson just wanted him to know his limits. "Yes."

"And you will obey Dr. Beckett?"

"Yes."

Teyla hesitated at his brusque response. "Is this not unwise of Dr. Beckett?"

John briefly closed his eyes in resignation and turned to give Teyla his full attention. "I trust Dr. Beckett." He left it at that and Teyla accepted it with a small apologetic smile.

Sheppard closed his eyes again and crossed his arms, signaling the matter closed. It was uncomfortable enough even talking to Teyla. He wasn't looking forward to crawling to Weir. He'd accessed their communication transcripts through Rodney's computer and he'd cringed at his words, "So let me do my job."

Protecting scientists was his job, not galloping across another planet on a quest. Now Major Lorne was in the infirmary recovering from dehydration because Evan didn't schedule any breaks in the refrigerated jumper for himself on Puchek. He guarded the jumper while Teyla, more mobile, guarded the scientists in the field. Lorne had done _his_ job.

Beckett would get over it and return him to active duty after he ordered up every test known to man and the ancients. But Weir—the way she'd given him a cool stare and promissory nod of ass-chewing to come—would be harder to win back her trust.

Sheppard's eyes opened when his belly grumbled loudly and insistently.

"Hungry?" Teyla shared his smile.

"When are they gonna feed us?"

•

_Something was wrong with his hearing. He could see walls exploding with blasts rocketing into them soundlessly. The only noise was his heart hammering against his ribs, drowning out the hush of desperation. The desperation pursued him through the hallways of Atlantis toward the control room driving him toward a final confrontation. _

_John felt the crushing silence around him as the P90 jerked violently in his hands, spewing rounds at faceless men. Their bodies ripped apart with shredded flesh and blood that pooled beneath his toes and seized his driving feet to slow his progress. The carnage became a shallow mire filled with death and corpses that his tread shoved under with each step. He left the pool of dead behind, skidding around the corner, exposed in the white scrubs from the infirmary, and into the gate room._

_There, he saw them, Kolya with his human shield._

_He felt the familiar calm hush his racing pulse as his weapon drew a bead on the exposed shoulder. He spoke forgotten words that had no sound and listened to his heart pounding in his chest. _

_A single shot rang out like the crack of thunder and struck Elizabeth in the heart._

Sheppard woke up with a startled jerk to the mundane sounds of the observation room with his pulse racing and the vivid dream already fading. His eyes opened to a view of the glassed-in observation deck above them where technicians hovered over their equipment. He assumed the change of scenery had triggered his dreams.

He rolled his shoulders and longed for the privacy of his quarters.

Beside him, McKay tapped away at his laptop where Teyla had sat. Ronon paced the room in his too short scrubs and kicked a pillow at the wall every time he returned. Teyla relaxed on her bed in a meditative pose.

"What are you working on?" Sheppard scrubbed his face and wished for a shower. His skin felt salty and itchy from their mission and the sponge bath just wasn't cutting it. The adrenaline left him charged and ready to break down a quarantine door. He was tired of sleeping and he empathized with Ronon kicking the pillow at the wall.

"P2K-369's site data—well, what I could get in thirty seconds."

"Yeah?"

"The whole setup's backwards. It's designed to receive energy, but the source is missing and I don't have enough data to even know where to look for it. I need to examine the control panels on site." Rodney tapped a few more keys. "You missed Elizabeth."

_That wasn't necessarily a bad thing,_ he thought.

"She wanted to look at the site stills." McKay looked pleased. "I e-mailed her."

John got up and stretched. Rodney was enjoying his bad boy status with too much relish. It wasn't a competition. Dr. Weir just liked him better. Most of the time.

He looked at his watch and realized they'd been there almost 20 hours. It was almost time for lunch and his stomach was gnawing with hunger. He looked up again when a flurry of activity mobilized the observation deck and saw Beckett talking to his tech team. They were getting marching orders.

"Something's up." Sheppard announced and nodded at Dex who'd abandoned the pillow to join him. Together they watched the Chief Medical Officer sail out toward the exit and the isolation room entrance.

When Dr. Beckett walked into the observation pit without bothering to don the hazmat suit, Sheppard and his team immediately knew their forced stay in quarantine was over. The team gathered around the doctor with relieved smiles.

"What'd you find out, Doc?"

Beckett's soft brogue greeted them with welcome news. "Well, quarantine's been lifted, but it's a wee bit complicated. We're going tae need Rodney's expertise tae figure this out."

"Of course, I'm indispensable everywhere." McKay's chin lifted smugly. "Why do you need me?"

"It's not a biological problem. All the victims were quite healthy. None of them should be dead. The single common factor among them is a tiny implant in the left temple. In fact, the same implant shows up in my patient. So this is more of a hardware problem. Zelenka thinks the implant killed them instantly when it shut down."

"Hmm, curious. Why isn't your patient dead?"

"Her implant seems to be different. Dr. Zelenka is putting together a diagram to map the implant and its effects on the brain. The most obvious difference is her implant has fewer connections while the others have dozens that are spread throughout the centers of the brain. Her implant is also the only one that's emitting a power signature, I assume because it's turned on. Dr. Biro is working with him filling in the biological data."

"Dr. Biro?" Rodney fairly grimaced.

Teyla diplomatically cut in before he said more. "And how is your patient doing?"

"Well, quite extraordinary, really. According to our scans, the nerve damage is extensive, but there isn't any sign of a spinal injury. I've not completely ruled out brain damage because of the implant. She's completely paralyzed, yet she's showing progress with regaining motor function. Zelenka thinks it's the implant doing it. She's relearning and repairing her nerve paths at a phenomenal rate. I've had her almost constantly under the scanner. The amount of information we're learning about the nervous system and the brain is going to drive medical research into a whole new direction. At the rate she's going, it'll just be a few days before she can open her eyes."

"Then she'll wake up?" Dex asked.

Beckett crossed his arms. "Aye, she's conscious right now—she just can't talk or move yet. But her self-healing abilities will have her walking about, despite my efforts."

"Well then," McKay gathered his laptop up. "I'll be off to take a refreshing shower…then, if we're free to go. That is, before I go to work on your, uh, patient." He hugged the computer to his chest looking uncomfortable with the idea of poking around on a human.

Beckett smiled. "Don't let me stop you." But he grabbed Sheppard's arm. "Except you, Colonel."

"Quarantine's been lifted…"

"Aye. And you've all been cleared," the doctor assured as he let Sheppard's team beat a hasty retreat before he addressed him privately. "My department's been a bit overwhelmed today with the investigation into the survivor and working with pathology. However, I haven't forgotten about you. Your blood work and tests came back normal, but that shock must have been quite nasty. Now that you're free to come by, I want to run a few scans before I allow you to return to active duty, Colonel." He blinked innocently. "Oh, by the way, Dr. Weir wants you in her office in thirty minutes." He patted Sheppard's arm brightly. "Off you go, now."

Sheppard smiled wryly. He recognized the forced check up for what it was—retribution. But the good doctors were softening. They'd given him time to shower for his ass-chewing. "See you later, Doc."

•

TBC

_Next chapter, _Room for Maneuver…


	9. Room for Maneuver

**The A-ware** by Fandomatic

•

**Room for Maneuver**

John spotted Dr. Elizabeth Weir, leader of the Atlantis expedition, sitting in her glassed-in office, raptly intent on her computer screen. A small hint of humor had turned the corner of her mouth up and crinkled her eyes. Sheppard approached her door and recognized the enthralled focus of a research scientist pouring over a favorite subject. Her dark curls fell across her cheek, unnoticed, and her eyes danced.

All her captivation disappeared when he walked through her door. And when her eyebrow arched, he knew it was about to get uncomfortable.

"Colonel," she tucked her loose curl behind her ear. "Close the door." She closed her computer to focus on him and her lips had compressed in a firm expression.

"Dr. Weir." John abandoned his ready apology at Weir's tight-lipped expression and closed the door. He took a seat and leaned back in her office chair. She obviously wanted to light into him so he waited.

Weir's silence provoked him to fill it.

"Okay, I get it. I screwed up and you've lost confidence in me." John sighed. "I'd defend myself, if my_ ... self_ ... had a leg to stand on, but I don't remember anything. I'm sure I had a really good reason to go there, but I can't tell you what it was. It wasn't in the transcripts."

"You were mad at me for trespassing on your turf."

"Oh." John nodded and shifted uncomfortably. "That-that 'mad' part doesn't come through in the transcripts."

"I made a decision to aid the single survivor of a massacre and you didn't like me taking a field decision out of your hands. So you broke protocol."

"Oh." John rubbed his chin uneasily. "That sounds really juvenile. I thought, well, I thought _this_ was about something else."

"Really."

"Well, I compromised the extraction team's defenses."

"And you broke quarantine!"

John didn't say anything for a moment. "Elizabeth, the whole planet was under quarantine."

"Then let me be a little clearer. Dr. Beckett was charged with oversight of the quarantine. He told you to stay and you disregarded him."

John shifted again in his chair. "Yes, that's what Ronon said."

"John, the civilian contingent needs as much latitude as you can provide."

Sheppard looked away briefly and shook his head. "I don't want to get into this again. Can we keep this to yesterday's stupidity for leaving the site and me agreeing with you?"

"This goes much deeper than that."

Sheppard cleared his throat. "We've had this argument before. I thought I made my position clear."

"Yes, you have, because I'm not seeing much personal accommodation in your attitude when you continue to ignore the lead civilian. It undermines his authority!"

"Authority he doesn't have!" Provoked, he leaned forward.

"_That_ is exactly what I'm talking about." Weir planted her hands on the desk and half rose out of her chair.

"In the field," he lowered his voice, trying to stem the rising heat, "I'm in charge. And I don't care how you sugar coat it with 'medical quarantine' labels or 'civilian affairs,' it's ultimately my command. Trust me, if the Wraith had attacked us, we wouldn't be having this conversation. I'd be held accountable and _nobody_ would be asking Beckett about it."

Elizabeth rose to her full height and leaned across her desk. "Well, I'm holding you accountable for making a rash decision that left the extraction team unprotected. Your job is to protect them, not abandon them to pursue leads!" She abruptly turned and withdrew to the glass wall. "Beckett was right when he told you to stay. What it keeps coming back to is your disregard for civilian control when you should have more respect for their authority."

"You can't handcuff me by taking away discretion." Sheppard found himself on his feet and his eyes narrowed at her stiffened spine. "If we're going to argue how much latitude I allow the civilian contingent in the field, you're going to lose. And I don't mean arguments. You're going to lose lives if I don't have the liberty to make calls as I see fit." The colonel paused and checked his rising temper when she turned to face him with crossed arms. "Elizabeth, I can't tell you what I don't know. I calculate risks and whatever I saw took me to that temple and _that_ was a calculated risk for the extraction team. And that was my call to make whether it was right or wrong, not Beckett's. But, if it helps, I apologize for forcing your hand…again."

Dr. Weir's lips compressed even more as she advanced on her second in command and met his eyes unwaveringly. "An apology is not going to fix this. _Listening_ to your civilian contingent will."

John dropped his eyes. "You're assuming I didn't listen." He stepped closer into her space and met her eyes earnestly. "You know me, I listen. I just don't know why I made that call. And because I don't know, I can't justify it—even to myself. But I did and that means I saw something."

Weir threw up her hands at that and turned away. "You know, it's useless to have an argument with an amnesiac." She sat down on the corner of the desk and pointed at him. "You're convinced you acted rationally when all my instincts tell me otherwise." She stared at him in frustration and crossed her arms again. "John, tell me, what I'm suppose to do when you force my hand…again?"

Sheppard offered her a small smile in the growing silence. "I can't make that call, Elizabeth. I can only make the calls that protect Atlantis."

Elizabeth Weir's mouth quirked upward at his candor, but she quelled the smile which had already reached her eyes. "Damn, you could charm venom out of a rock!"

John nodded modestly and matched her schooled face because he didn't want to destroy the moment. "That is ... one of my lesser skills."

She cleared her throat but wasn't quite ready to give up frowning. "Did Dr. Beckett clear you for duty, yet?"

"No."

"Then don't let me hold you up. I need you back to full status, Colonel."

"Yes, ma'am." Sheppard nodded at her and walked toward the door. He paused in the doorway. "And thank you," he added over his shoulder. "Again."

•

TBC

_Next chapter, _Discovery…


	10. Discovery

**The A-ware** by Fandomatic

•

**Discovery**

After lunch Lt. Col. Sheppard didn't end up postponing his trip to the infirmary intentionally. Truthfully, with Major Lorne's stay in the infirmary combined with his forced stay in quarantine, the paperwork had piled up and somebody had to send it on its way or they'd find themselves without a complete compliment of personnel, or worse, diminishing munitions. So he delayed as he processed both of their office paperwork, requisitions and reports because his duties had multiplied with the major's schedule.

By the time he cleared his in-box on his laptop, the forced inactivity almost had him clawing the walls. Knowing he'd never be able to sit still for Beckett in that mood, he grabbed a mid-day sandwich to quell his rising hunger and found Ronon just as keen to work off some energy in the gym. When he finally put in an appearance at the infirmary for tests, it was late afternoon and almost time for meal call.

He ignored his insatiable appetite in preference of duty.

Nurse Reese paused to greet him as she passed by with a dinner tray for one of their patients. From her, he learned Drs. Beckett and Biro were on their way to a conference with Dr. Weir. He was more interested in the plate of steaming food under his nose. So when Dr. Weir's call came for his team to meet in the conference room, he received it with acceleration and 'borrowed' Reese's dinner roll and citrus fruit.

He met up with Teyla and Ronon outside the conference room door panels and accompanied them inside. Weir nodded at them distractedly and continued typing on her laptop as they filed in. Drs. Biro and Beckett and McKay were already sitting around the table so John sat down next to Weir and finished the last swallow of the dinner roll. He immediately wished he had another one.

Beckett met his cordial nod with a frosty glare. "And where have you got yourself off to all day, Colonel?"

"I just came from the infirmary," Sheppard protested before Weir could add her displeasure. But if she heard the exchange, she didn't acknowledge it.

"Ah, we're all here." She took inventory with her eyes and focused on Carson. "I understand your team came up with a few significant discoveries concerning P2K-369 and the implants. But before we get into that, I want to share a recent discovery that will affect future missions and may have a bearing on the investigation into the massacre that occurred there."

Weir tapped her laptop keyboard and an image of the temple interior resolved on the large flat panel screen. "I was looking over the stills Rodney sent me from the ancient site on P2K-369 and found six ... _new_ ... gate addresses on the interior surfaces." Elizabeth's eyes smiled and she waited for them to connect the dots as she paged through the images.

"New?" John sat up and Rodney's eyes widened. They exchanged stunned looks.

"They're _not_ listed in the ancient database. All six of them established a wormhole."

"Wow."

"Yes, 'wow.'" Dr. Weir changed the image to a list of six addresses and turned to Teyla and Ronon. "Do you recognize any of these?"

Ronon immediately shook his head, but Teyla studied them before she admitted defeat. "I have never seen these configurations before."

The colonel grinned at Rodney. "Let me guess. You want us to go there."

Weir's eyes sparkled. "I haven't told you the best part yet. The temple interior spikes have ancient power patterns carved along their surfaces. Dr. McKay pointed out that they are cautionary patterns designed to warn against touching the posts when power is flowing through them, and that's probably what knocked the colonel out. But I don't think they are there to just caution." Weir rose and pointed to the base of the single obelisk jutting from the floor. "They radiate toward the center from the base in a _diminishing_ pattern along with this other symbol, meaning 'source.' At the base, the largest symbols occur near the addresses. I think they may point to large power sources on these worlds."

"ZedPMs!" McKay blurted into the shocked silence.

"Six."

"You," Sheppard sat forward and raised his finger, "you should trust my instincts in the field."

She grinned at him and returned to her chair. "Let's not get too excited. These are only possibilities. But it does point to some significant power sources."

McKay's fingers snapped impatiently. "Do you know what this means?" He motioned at the screen. "The addresses aren't in the database so somebody must have _moved_ some stargates around besides the ancients! Possibly a space-faring civilization."

Elizabeth shrugged. "Or the ancestors omitted them from the database."

"And how likely is that? The victims have synthetic clothing, implants hardwired into their skulls, and the trail of dead led to the temple with the addresses. How much coincidence do you need? We should get some MALPs through the gate to determine which one is most viable, attach a sensory array for power signatures and get a reading to determine coordin—"

The pathologist laid a hand on Dr. McKay's arm and interrupted him. Her touch brought instant silence to McKay as she pushed her large glasses back up on her nose. "Before you go off planning to cavort through the stargate—not that I'd call any stargate travel 'cavorting'—maybe you better tell Dr. Weir what we just discovered."

Weir raised an eyebrow. "Yes, Rodney. What's so urgent that it can't wait for mission planning?"

Dr. McKay frowned. "Well, if we find this potential new ally, this could change everything. Everything from how we go about visiting them to what we do with the survivor. I mean the implications that are in the implants—"

"McKay," Sheppard reminded.

"Well, I know how they died," McKay burst out.

"Well, we think we do, but we don't know for certain," Beckett modified and crossed his arms, annoyed at the physicist for not including the entire medical team.

"Yes I do," Rodney countered. "This is mechanics, pure and simple. Well, software mechanics. There's no other explanation, considering the circumstances."

"Rodney, let us in on it," Weir prompted.

"They were murdered. The survivor did it."

Sheppard straightened in his chair and he exchanged a look with Weir. "How do you figure that?"

"The implants have wireless connections. The three samples Dr. Biro removed communicate with each other. I wired in one to my computer, and with the computer acting as a wireless link, we registered an increased frequency between the implants. They're talking to each other."

"They have comms in their heads?" Sheppard asked.

"No, no, no, no, no. You don't get it. The implant connects them all _telepathically_. Thought becomes wireless transmission which downloads into thought. It's a nano computer. The implant responds to thought patterns with hard information from any number of sources or maybe even an instant database. I mean this is where the internet is headed. Talk about instant messaging, instant translator, instant Google and user-friendly."

"I wouldn't call murder _user-friendly_," Sheppard pointed out. "So how does this make her a mass murderer?"

"I'm getting to that. In engineering terms, her implant is special. It functions like my wireless router is doing now for the other implants. It acts sort of like a junction box, if you will, for all the implants around it. Only, hers isn't working anymore."

"What, so she blew a fuse?" Sheppard glanced at Weir.

"Crude, but essentially correct. Look, in a populated world, you wouldn't want to _be_ connected to millions of people. The potential influx of information would be overwhelming. So a percentage of terminals take out the background noise for a manageable community. You access the terminal to access long distance connections through a second terminal. She's a terminal. Her function is to terminate undesirable connections."

"And she terminated her people?" Weir asked.

"I thought I said that."

"McKay!" Sheppard prompted again.

"Well, she's the junction that connects her people through subspace and terminates their connections from the rest of the community. For whatever reason, she's responsible for turning them off."

"But why did they die?" Ronon grumbled. "It doesn't explain why their bodies quit."

Biro happily bounced in to answer. "Well, we've mapped the areas of the brain that the connections go to in the contaminated cadaver, and they connect to the involuntary—"

Impatiently McKay took over. "The implant, it does everything. Regulates the heart. Tells your lungs to inhale. Tells your bowels to contract. _Everything_. Why leave it up to Mother Nature when you have a built in pacemaker? So when she cut them off, their bodies shut down."

Weir looked dismayed. "Why would they build them like that?"

Beckett shook his head. "I'm sure it didn't start out that way, but preventive medicine is how we practice medicine now. Who's to say preventive medicine isn't a small computer chip telling our involuntary muscles to contract and relax in the future? They probably grew dependent on them."

"If she blew a fuse," John asked, "why didn't _she_ die, too?"

"That's the thing," Rodney shook his finger. "See, she's not connected like the others. Her implant is functioning like an independent filter, which makes sense if she's the junction, because she gets bombarded a thousand times more than the other implants. Her implant, twice as big, allows a group within range to connect and function. The implant significantly reduces mass mobility. I mean, they can't even travel off world without a local router. They'd shut down. It definitely would hinder a society from exploring."

"Okay, let me get this straight." Sheppard leaned back in his chair. "Their implants, with built-in organ pacers, are networked together through her router. When she pulled the plug, she didn't die because she has a filter instead of a built-in pacer?"

"But she has a 'pacer.'" Beckett countered. "Her implant is rebuilding her nerve pathways at a remarkable rate."

"But her connection to the group is not subordinate to her 'pacer.'" Rodney looked around at the blank stares as Sheppard translated for him.

"He means her 'pacer' has a built-in firewall."

"No," Rodney objected. "Her filter has the firewall and the 'pacer'—actually it's more of a super computer—is outside its function. It's more like an out-of-network computer that can dial in… Okay, she has a built-in firewall."

"So why did she kill her people? Would she not be connected to them in such a way that terminating them would be unthinkable, like suicide?" Teyla asked.

The group remained silent, reflecting on her insight.

"Why would you build an implant that could kill a portion of your population?" Weir wondered.

"Control, power, security, protection, lots of reasons." Sheppard responded. "The real question is what to do with her. She can't stay in Atlantis. She's a mass murderer and we can't turn her loose. If we find her people, well, we can return her. But in the meantime, we need to lock her in a secure room inside the infirmary while she's recovering."

"That's not going to work, Colonel," Beckett shook his head. "She has the ATA gene, so there's no secure door outside of the holding cell for her."

"Oh, my God," Weir breathed.

John met Elizabeth's alarmed eyes and cued his earpiece. "Sheppard to Sergeant Hayes. Double your security detail on our guest. She has the ancient gene, so stay alert for any mental activity." He turned back to Weir. "We need to get her off Atlantis before she wakes up. With that implant, there's no telling what she's capable of doing."

"Dr. Beckett?" Elizabeth turned to her ranking physician.

"Technically, she's already awake, she just can't talk yet. I could keep her under sedation until we've prepped the Alpha site."

"Do it."

As Beckett and Biro got up to leave, McKay objected, "Wait a minute! She might _be_ an ancient! Granted, an off-shoot of the ancients with a weird thing for implants, but we could learn so much from a real live, talking, breathing ancient."

Carson shook his head. "Her gene isn't even as strong as Colonel Sheppard's. She may be a descendant, but definitely not an ancient."

Watching his chances of a meaningful exchange with an advanced civilization crumble, Rodney raised his hand tentatively. "Does this mean we're postponing the exploration of these six new worlds?"

Weir rose. "Until we secure Atlantis, all gate operation is suspended. We're dealing with a technologically advanced society and one of these unknown gate addresses might just turn out to be her home world. With the potential for new allies… I can't tell you how much a criminal exchange negotiation complicates talks. I want our 'guest' secured somewhere safe before I authorize any missions."

With the meeting breaking up, Elizabeth's frown returned, and she directed her unease toward Sheppard. He recognized the signal and hung back.

"Next time I want to break protocol, remind me of this moment," she muttered as they stood shoulder to shoulder watching the retreating group.

Sheppard sighed. "You can't second-guess yourself, Elizabeth. It was the right thing to do. And we gained information on a possible threat and a possible ally."

Weir glanced up at him. "Ironic, isn't it. I try to help someone and they turn out to be a mass murderer. You start a turf war and it turns into six new worlds with potential power sources and possible allies."

John cocked his head. "Well, I don't recall a turf war."

"About that," she crossed her arms. "I heard Beckett say you didn't report to the infirmary yet."

"I've been a little busy this afternoon."

Elizabeth nodded. "Now, Colonel. Evan can cover the removal of the survivor. I want you cleared for this mission."

"What? No dinner? I'm starved," he teased.

When she rolled her eyes, Sheppard's eyes crinkled as he moved toward the door. "I'm going now. Wouldn't want to start _another_ turf war."

•

TBC

_Next chapter... _Awakening_  
_


	11. Awakening

**The A-ware** by Fandomatic

•

**Awakening**

John thumped down the central staircase and headed toward the transporter. He reviewed the orders he wanted to give Lorne before Beckett laid him under the scanner. Once under the scan, he'd be weaponless with a mass murderer in the same room. He wanted to make sure she was secure.

He stepped into the transporter and was still smiling when he felt an odd familiar tingling 'hiccup' course through his nerves to his fingertips and toes. When it subsided, he lost all control as the artificial intelligence took over and straightened with purpose. Its glee with its freedom and power overwhelmed his ability to think for a moment. His memory returned in a rush as the implant replayed everything with vivid detail and clarity.

Weir was right. He'd started a juvenile turf war under the influence of the AI.

_Crap! Talk about a different perspective. I remember you!_

His hand reached out and touched the screen in the wrong spot.

_Damn, I don't want to see Rodney. I'm supposed to go to the infirmary for a checkup._

The doors opened outside of Rodney's lab and his feet took him out of the transporter.

_At least I can think for myself, this time. What does that red rock do? Splinter? Oh…you don't want Dr. Beckett to find out you're in here or that weird rock is, too. Come on, lighten up and talk to me. Let me in on the hijack this time. You said 'our purpose is one.' Is this another one of your lies?_

_TRUE INTEGRATION WILL REQUIRE MORE TIME SINCE WE HOST THE PHASE CRYSTAL. _Satisfaction of a task well-done with a touch of amusement filled his mind as he remembered the image of the blood red crystal sinking like a phantom into his chest.

John tried to stop his legs and they kept walking. _You obviously don't need true integration. _

_OUR PURPOSE IS ONE. _Rodney McKay's full image rotated 360° in his mind's eye. That was a little creepy.

_What do you want with Rodney? _

And Rodney McKay looked up from his computer in surprise as Sheppard's eyes zeroed in on the tiny implants and the impossibly fine silver filaments that attached one of them to his laptop.

_Oh, crap._

"Hey, Rodney," Sheppard's voice greeted him casually. "What're you working on?" He invasively ogled his screen over his shoulder.

_Damn, that's my move!_

"Aren't you supposed to be in Beckett's clutches?" McKay hunched over his keyboard protectively.

_You'll never fool him. He's sharp. The smartest guy in two galaxies—_

"Beckett can wait 'til after supper," his voice said. "I'm hungry and I thought maybe the smartest guy in two galaxies was hungry, too."

"Really? Well, I mean, thanks, yeah." Rodney's face had lit up.

_Rodney, you egotistical sap!_

"So what're you doing?"

"Well, I'm configuring this interface to access the implant core memory. Theoretically, I should be able to talk to the implant and it will be able to guide the interface." He beamed.

_Damn, that's brilliant._

"Wow, that's brilliant." And Sheppard's eyes focused in on the monitor with a sensor array, which had recorded a spike in the implant activity since he'd walked in.

_Don't look at me. Look at the fireworks this hijacker has lit up!_

His voice smoothly continued, "You're planning to talk to the survivor through the implant."

Rodney's face fell for a second before he covered up his amazement. "Well, yes, I was planning on accessing the network and gaining control of her functions, you know, so she can't kill anyone. And maybe then talk to her civilization."

_UH OH._

'_Uh oh' is right, buddy. He's smart enough to toast your little implanted ass! He's going to see you on his monitor in the next two seconds, so kiss your implant goodbye!_

Sheppard's head nodded. "You're amazing, Rodney. Not only are you thinking about the welfare of the city, you're thinking about accessing the communication device of a technologically advanced community and calling them up." Sheppard's hand crossed over Rodney's shoulders and guided him toward the door. "I hope you make that a _collect_ call."

"Heh." Rodney grinned. "That's funny."

_It's SO not funny, you stupid density-for-brains! He doesn't even sound like me. And take that hand off him!_

"Hey, I hear they made chocolate mud pie," Rodney volunteered as he walked him out the door.

"Really? Save me and Teyla a piece, will you?" Sheppard's head nodded toward the opposite hallway. "I'll go get Teyla and meet you up there." He patted McKay on the back and watched him float toward the transporter doors on a heady cloud of pride.

_He's going to be unbearable for days._

His hand gave him a little wave and the artificial intelligence smiled as Rodney's shadow disappeared in a flash of light.

The A-ware turned on Sheppard's heel and returned to the lab alone. Once inside, it closed the door, locking it with a command, and approached the laptop.

John felt a tingling begin in his spine and gravitate to his scalp. He caught a glimpse of his image reflecting in the empty wall monitor and his hair glowed with a silver sheen. The increased connectivity merged his consciousness with the artificial intelligence and he struggled for control.

He instantly appreciated the A-ware virus protection's function, for it performed economically, keeping his will isolated from revealed paths to the implant. With detached disgust, he noticed the silver had invaded his unresponsive fingertips. The A-ware touched the plugged-in implant and connected to Rodney's laptop fluidly through extended filaments that merged with the isolated implant. It sifted through Sheppard's memory as it tripped through McKay's programs, files and access codes with the efficiency of a search engine. Matching key data, it unlocked McKay's secure files with blinding speed and downloaded Rodney's encrypted files, narrowing down a file search for gate access.

Sheppard's lips smiled as he absorbed the last flickering image of a backdoor code to the gate shield.

The Sheppard AI wasn't finished though. It disconnected the implant attached to the computer and lifted them all to his temple, where the hair latched on to them and absorbed the nanite bits into his hair follicles and into his brain. There they reassembled in a loose configuration, ready for deployment.

Only then did the silver connectivity recede into his scalp and Sheppard claimed his identity along with a greater understanding of the A-ware's purpose. The lingering single-minded purpose, hidden under a layer of isolating functions, suffused his thoughts and he struggled to remember himself and deny the purpose.

Sheppard's lips smiled and it slipped the yellow citrus from his pocket. Flipping it into mid air, he caught it momentarily on the back of his hand and tossed it back up, snatching it from its flight with practiced ease. The AI placed it strategically where the implants had been. It appreciated Sheppard's humor. His memory had been quite helpful.

The artificial intelligence, simply identified to Sheppard by its combined functions as 'buffer virus,' took his body for a spin up to the jumper bay. The host was in complete accord with the A-ware, which baffled the artificial intelligence because partial integration should have taken longer. Part of it started a diagnostic program to explain the anomaly before it granted access, while another cautiously queried the Sheppard personality.

_OUR PURPOSE IS ONE?_

_Damn your linear ass! We have to leave to protect Atlantis. You put that phase crystal in here with me! What the hell were you thinking! It could detonate at any moment! We have to return it._

_AH. OUR PURPOSE COINCIDES. _And the buffer virus understood the fear of the host for his people. _I, TOO, WISH TO PROTECT THE COLLECTIVE._

Sheppard's eye spotted Ronon entering the back hall behind the bay. _Ronon isn't so gullible, you demented, hair-brained computer. And he really has a thing about implants, so be careful. I don't want my arms ripped out. This would go so much better if you let me explain it to Dr. Weir._

_THIS WOULD NOT PROTECT YOUR PEOPLE. IGNORANCE OF THE PHASE CRYSTAL PROTECTS THEM._

_If he shoots me, you're going to get us all blown up. Here's a concept for you—teamwork. You let me get this phase crystal off Atlantis, and we'll talk about your agenda._

_YOU WILL HIDE MY PRESENCE?_

_If it means I get to keep my arms, yeah._

_ACCESS GRANTED._

The AI's release of control made Sheppard almost stumble into Ronon, who steadied him with a hand. "What is it?"

"Damn knee's giving out." John lied and rubbed his leg for effect. "What're you doing up here? Thought you'd be in the mess already."

"I'm on my way. McKay says there's dirt pie. Where's Teyla? He said you went to get her."

"It's _mud_ pie. She wasn't in the mood."

"Since when?"

"Since they named it after slime." Sheppard peered down the hall. The bay armory door to his left caught his eye."Say, did you see Lorne up here?"

"No. I think Beckett still has him."

"Good."

"Why?"

"Better him than me." Sheppard grinned.

Ronon grunted in agreement. "You comin' to eat?"

"In a minute. I've got an errand to run before Beckett finds me." Sheppard jerked a thumb toward the bay and they parted. The colonel followed the exterior wall until Ronon turned the corner. He backtracked back to the armory door and stepped into the makeshift room. He quickly pulled a tac vest from the rack and shrugged into it.

_YOU DO NOT NEED THESE TOOLS. I AM YOUR TOOL._

"Like hell you are." Sheppard stuffed his pockets with pre-loaded clips and a few extra magazines for his side arm. His stomach growled and he popped a few power bars into a side pocket and retrieved a filled canteen. He fetched a backpack off a shelf and made the round around the room stuffing it with overnight supplies. Slinging the pack over his shoulder, he unstacked the P90 from the wall rack and efficiently clipped it to his vest as he headed toward the door.

Inside the doorway, he paused and scanned the almost empty room. Most of Atlantis's personnel were cycling through the dinner hour. Only two technicians worked on Jumper Three. Sheppard headed for Jumper One. It would be prepped to go with MRE packets.

He slapped a hand over the hatch control and casually waved as the two techs looked up when the noise startled them. They acknowledge his presence and turned back to their work unconcerned. The colonel entered the jumper and sealed the back.

_Time to upload Rodney's cookies._ He felt the familiar sensation bloom in his spine and course through his scalp. This time the merge happened instantly and the Sheppard AI touched the console with one purpose. With the program loaded, he sat down and dialed the gate.

The floor irised open with the rising sound of the alarms going off in the gate room. Sheppard's jumper rose off the pad as technicians darted out of the way below. The stargate beckoned with an open event horizon and he descended into the gate room. He heard Dr. Weir's voice hail the jumper through the console.

"_This is Dr. Weir. Stand down in the jumper! We have a freeze in place on all gate activity. You are unauthorized for gate deployment. Stand down! Raise the shield!" _

As the jumper stilled in front of the stargate, lining up for launch, he heard Dr. Weir's voice activate his headset. _"Colonel Sheppard, an__ unauthorized jumper has breached shield protocols and is leaving Atlan__tis! Report to the gate room." _

As the jumper pushed forward, he felt the buffer virus encase the phase crystal with protective filaments and he understood. Gate travel was not good for the crystal. The buffer had to withdraw from his mind to protect the crystal's integrity, just as it had done before within the temple.

His jumper flew over the desert landscape and he heard Elizabeth on the comms, still calling his name. John reached up and regretfully removed the hardware. It wasn't going to be easy to explain this to Elizabeth.

•

_Next chapter, _AWOL


	12. AWOL

**The A-ware** by Fandomatic

•

**AWOL**

"Who was in that jumper?" Dr. Elizabeth Weir's voice penetrated the control room as she stormed the catwalk between them. The technicians shrugged and looked at each other as the stargate shut down. "And turn off that alarm." Chuck queried the Jumper Bay techs and came up with an answer that astonished her.

"Simms reports it was Colonel Sheppard, ma'am." Chuck listened and added. "Thompson says he was geared up. He lost a wrench." In unison, their eyes dropped to the embarkation floor where Thomson's wrench had fallen to the side. "I'll tell him we found it," Chuck added as the alarm abruptly cut off.

"Get McKay, Lorne and Beckett up here. Then find out where he went and how he dropped that shield." Weir bit her lip while the technicians obliged.

"_Dr. McKay, Major Lorne and Dr. Beckett, please report to the control room immediately."_

Chuck looked up at her from his chair. "Diagnostics on the shield will take a few minutes. But the address he dialed is not listed in the database. Wait… He dialed out to one of the new addresses discovered on P2K-369."

"One of the Puchek planets? Which one?" Dr. Weir's stomach turned. She was starting to see a pattern. _Why did he keep targeting the forbidden? Why didn't he clear it first? What did he think he was doing? _

"P2L-764," Chuck responded.

Elizabeth swallowed the choking sensation in the base of her throat at her rising anger. Something was not right with her second in command. This was a blatant slap in the face to her authority. His defense of 'discretion' didn't cover taking a puddle jumper for a joy-ride to a forbidden planet after he'd been grounded. He'd seemed repentant in her office earlier, but his actions spoke volumes about his willingness to bend the rules.

Major Lorne and Dr. Beckett got to the control room first and Elizabeth motioned toward her office and led them across the catwalk. Below, she saw McKay enter the gate room and she waved for him to follow.

"Carson, did Colonel Sheppard ever make it to the infirmary for his post-mission scans?" She wondered if Beckett's 'grounding' had set him off. It hadn't been the most diplomatic way for the doctor to slap his wrist, or the most advisable, especially considering their tenuous existence in Pegasus.

"No. He's been avoiding me." Beckett followed her through her door and shot a puzzled look at Evan as she swept behind her desk and sat down.

"As I suspected." Weir nodded and compressed her lips. She waited for McKay to come in behind them.

"Elizabeth, I just heard. Is it true? Was it Sheppard?" McKay pushed forward. "I was just talking to him. He was going to meet me for dinner. I mean, we were having mud pie…" He trailed off at Weir's stony look.

"Gentlemen, Colonel Sheppard went AWOL. He took a jumper through the gate just a few minutes ago to P2L-764, one of the new Puchek planets." Elizabeth folded her hands precisely. "Major Lorne, as the highest ranking military officer on Atlantis, you are now the acting military commander and will assume your duties immediately. Part of those duties is seeing to it that Colonel Sheppard's access codes are locked out of gate operations. On the other hand, I want you to put a mission together to bring him back."

"Yes, ma'am." Lorne shifted and suppressed the urge to salute.

"Dr. Weir." Chuck poked his head in the room. "We ran diagnostics. Nothing's wrong with the shield. I called Dr. Zelenka in to take a look."

Weir thanked the technician and her eyes focused on Rodney. "Rodney?"

"What?"

"Did you write a backdoor to the shield program?"

"Well, maybe," he hedged. "How much trouble am I in if I did?"

"Rodney!"

"Okay, yes, I did. I write backdoors to all my programs." He crossed his arms defensively.

"And Sheppard knew it," Elizabeth nodded. "Did he have access to your laptop?"

"No. Well, maybe in quarantine, but my files are encrypted and he wasn't looking at them. He was just in my lab earlier, but he wasn't interested in the computer, he was interested in dinner and…" Rodney's face fell. "The implants. Oh, no."

The growing look of confusion mixed with panic on the physicist's face made her stomach twist in dread. "Rodney, what happened?

"Well, he wanted me to join him for dinner and he thought my progress with the implant was brilliant. He left to go get Teyla— Hold on a minute." Rodney cued his headset. "This is McKay, whoever's in my lab, check my laptop… I left some alien implants plugged in… Well, they were right there! Are you sure? Terrific! Well, whoever you are, drop whatever petty project you're doing and bring my laptop to Dr. Weir's office immediately." McKay looked at his audience. "They're gone. He took the implants and left me a _lemon_."

"A lemon?" Weir's eyes rounded and Rodney's expression confirmed that his suspicions matched her own. The implications of the missing implants were too significant to ignore. "That sounds like John." _In a twisted way._

"Ah… I should have known!" McKay crossed his arms and looked ill. "The compliments were a little weird."

"Ah, no, fer the love o'…" Carson's hand scrubbed his whiskers. "That has to be it. Of course, the regeneration!"

"Oh, no," McKay's eyes suddenly rounded with another revelation. "It had access to my computer and I didn't even log off!"

"And it hacked into your computer to get control of the shield!" Weir added. "It has all your files, Rodney."

Evan squeezed his eyes shut and hoped they weren't discussing what he thought they were discussing. "It better not be replicators." His accusing glare fell on McKay.

"Well, nothing like your regular replicator," McKay snapped. "But these implants do have replicator traits. They're capable of changing shape and function, or nanite technology, hence the regeneration of nerves in Beckett's patient. They're capable of data storage and retrieval. They communicate on a subspace network. And the filaments that interact with the brain, well, they could function as controllers. All you need is a delivery method and a viral program to take over."

One of McKay's lab associates walked through the door with McKay's laptop and Rodney snatched it from her hands. "This will tell us if Sheppard's been hijacked." He took over a corner of Weir's desk and opened the laptop. "I was recording activity levels in the implants when Sheppard came in. All I have to do is see if there was a change in the reading…and here it is." He rotated the computer screen with the glaring evidence and tapped the screen. "Sheppard's been infected, and according to these raised levels, he's a terminal."

"And it'll be bloody hard to remove." Carson added. "He must o' been infected by the survivor. We got to move her to isolation."

Lorne cleared his throat. "We've got bigger problems. If Sheppard took three implants and had access to the entire city, we have a potential foothold situation."

"I can configure the sensors to read for implants," Rodney volunteered.

"No. No offence, Doc, but you've been in contact with Colonel Sheppard." Lorne turned to Weir. "Whoever hasn't needs to configure the sensors and that excludes everyone here."

"I'll ask Radek." Weir cued her comms and spoke to the Czech briefly. "He hasn't seen Colonel Sheppard since the briefing for P2K-369. It will only be a few minutes. Meanwhile, I want to discuss our options with the criminal in our ward. She has an implant and could contact Colonel Sheppard—"

"No, offence, ma'am, but you've had Colonel Sheppard in your office today," Lorne interrupted. "Before we make any decisions, I'd like to know the decisions are really from you."

Elizabeth inclined her head. "Understood, Major. We'll wait then."

Carson looked around at the sober faces. "Well, he has been avoiding me. Although, I have been treating the survivor." He sighed. "And we also have the contaminated cadaver in forensic."

"I don't think we need to worry about that one so much." Rodney said. "It's been deactivated and unless it gets a power surge, it's staying dormant."

"If you don't mind, Dr. McKay," Lorne pointed at him accusingly, "I'd rather be a hundred percent certain and put every one of those implants inside a rubber room."

Zelenka hurried in through the open glass door. "I made scan of Atlantis and I see only one active implant in infirmary and one inactive in pathology. It has just enough signature to show up on the scans. I thought it best to make sure no inactive implants are just waiting to be, you know, poof, turned on."

"Looks like we dodged a bullet," Lorne turned to Dr. Weir.

Weir sat up straight. "Well, with Rodney's computer compromised, Atlantis has been compromised until we change our codes. Radak, you're in charge of getting gate security back in line. I don't want to be surprised by any uninvited guests. Evan, I want you to oversee the removal of our guest to a gateless world as soon as we can locate a suitable prison planet. Meanwhile, Rodney, I want you to close that backdoor to the shield and focus on these implants. I want to know what they really do and if we can control them. I also want you to take the utmost precautions with these things. And Dr. Beckett, we're going to need a rubber room for that 'survivor.'"

Weir rose and touched Lorne's arm before he could file out with the other leaders. She looked worn. "Major, just remember, your best bet on bringing Colonel Sheppard home is Rodney."

Lorne nodded. "I was thinking, ma'am, that we need to check out those gate addresses Dr. McKay got off of the DHD on Puchek. In case the implant takes Sheppard to another world it knows about. That path to the temple was maintained by someone who came from the stargate and their home should show up more than once."

Elizabeth gravitated toward her glass window. "That's a very good idea, Major. I'll have Zelenka look into it." She turned around when he didn't leave. "What else?"

"I was also thinking that we should track down the Colonel using his locator beacon while Dr. McKay works on controlling the implant. Sort of a two-pronged attack." He hesitated. "I'm worried if we don't move now, we'll lose his trail. We can take two jumpers, use the cloak and go in under cover. We'll cover each other, make a quick search and move on. We could hit all six sites in under three hours. Once we find him, maybe Dr. McKay will have something by then."

"And if you don't find him?"

"I hadn't gotten that far, ma'am."

She nodded. "It's a reasonable risk, but if he stays cloaked, you won't see him."

"The jumper's not his final destination. He's going to leave it, eventually. And he has comms. I thought we'd try to hail him. He left Rodney a lemon. He might leave us a bread crumb."

Elizabeth's mouth twitched and she considered him. "Do you think he's leading us somewhere, deliberately, like he did to the Puchek temple?"

Lorne shook his head. "I don't know, but there's only one way to find out."

The Atlantis expedition leader consented to his plan with the briefest of nods. "Let's find out if he wants to be followed, then."

•

TBC

_Next chapter…Bait._


	13. Bait

**The A-ware** by Fandomatic

•

**Bait**

_You said we'd talk!_ Sheppard complained to the AI. _This is not talking! This is me thinking about talking but not actually doing any talking, just thinking! This wasn't part of our deal._

The AI activated the stargate and sent the puddle jumper through the event horizon. It waited until the last minute to abandon Sheppard's brain and cradle the phase crystal inside the host. Each successive trip had pushed the crystal closer to disaster and with each time, Sheppard grew more aware of its mounting resonance and the AI's mounting effort to control it.

The colonel was ready this time. His hand shot out for the reset button, but he was still too late. The jumper soared into the sky of another world just as fast as he lost control of his arm. And just as fast, the jumper swerved sharply up to avoid the giant obelisk built into the flight path while the gate behind him shut down with a flicker.

_Damn it! 'It' being the third time in a row! You know you're a stupid twit for stacking the deck without checking out these addresses first! You're gonna get us killed._ Sheppard tried to countermand the jumper controls, but the AI had locked him tightly inside. _You're gonna run into one of those things!_

He watched the AI work the console and chafed at his confinement. They had already visited three of the addresses recorded on the Puchek temple. He'd recognized them as the AI had dialed. Of them all, this world seemed the most hospitable if you were looking for a planet with oxygen. The last two didn't even have atmosphere. But they did have a matching black obelisk squatting in front of the stargate like some perverted yin and yang statement.

The AI performed its usual perfunctory scan for life signs on the HUD and zeroed in on a group nestled in the protective wall of a cliff divide. It cloaked the jumper and approached cautiously.

John observed a struggling community of nomads with banue beasts and baskets full of yandel bread. His stomach growled again and he could almost taste the nuttiness of the yandel. _How come I know what that is and what it tastes like? I've never had yandel bread._

_INTEGRATION IS NECESSARY FOR OUR PURPOSE._ The AI's clearer response came from a different source and Sheppard felt a conduit of knowledge flowing toward him. He sensed weakness in the implant as its controllers withdrew. Protecting the phase crystal had severely drained its power. He knew it didn't have enough strength to make another trip through the gate.

_Look, I don't want to be integrated. We've already talked about this. Well, I talked and then you shut me down. Evidently, you don't need me._ Sheppard's eyes watched the giant banue push over a fence post with its thick head and wander off toward some tasty wicket weed. _Somebody better stop that banue or he'll get a case of the wickets._

_I NEED YOU TO FIND CATALYST 24. _The A-ware insisted as Sheppard flexed his own hand with growing suspicion.

_Well, I want to know how to get this phase crystal out of me! It's not stable. We need to put it back and I'm not real clear on how that's going to happen when another trip through the stargate will resonate it out of phase…permanently!_ The AI had withdrawn its control and Sheppard cleared his throat. "That's why I wanted to go to Puchek in the first place, but you wouldn't have it!"

_YES, BUT RETURNING TO PUCHEK BEFORE INTEGRATION WOULD BE CATASTROPHIC._

John edged the jumper toward the bank of a large lake that was perfect for parking in seclusion with a short hike to the settlement. "Why do I get the feeling I'm not going to like this?"

_YOU WILL LIKE HUNTING CATALYST 24._

"Yeah, you said that before. Okay, so are you going to fill me in on this little plan of yours? We're stuck here, so how am I supposed to hunt this Catalyst 24?" John landed the puddle jumper on the beach and powered down the craft.

_THE HUNT HAS ALREADY STARTED._ John picked up his earpiece and tucked it behind his ear. Grabbing his backpack and assault weapon, he slapped open the back hatch._ YOU HAVE THE PHASE CRYSTAL AND CATALYST 24 WILL COME TO GET IT._

"Oh, so I'm bait now, too!" Sheppard shrugged on the pack as the ramp lowered. "This just gets better and better," He muttered and stepped off into the sand to sniff the air for galator scent. _No sense in getting snatched by a stinking swamp feline._ The sun overhead glared off the lake, making his eyes water. Sheppard fished out his aviator glasses and slipped them on. Leaving the cloaked jumper behind, he struck out for the cliff face and located the game trail easily through the giant grasses. Besides lacking large trees, M3K-329 had an abundance of flat lands. He mapped the way to the encampment in his mind and looked for the creek ahead.

_YOU MUST AVOID THE CATALYST UNTIL INTEGRATION. IN OUR CURRENT STATE, WE ARE VULNERABLE._ The AI emphasized his 'current state' as a reference of rewiring his brain to the implant more than the lack of power._ I NEED TIME TO HARNESS THE CRYSTAL. IT HAS STRETCHED MY RESOURCES._

"I got that. We're stuck here. I'm in charge." John smiled and spotted the stream at the bottom of the gentle incline. "I'll just make contact with the local indigenous population and then we'll sit back and wait for Major Lorne to show up." He headed toward the creek.

The artificial intelligence hesitated before it admitted, _I USED UP THE POWER SOURCE IN YOUR SUBCUTANEOUS TRANSMITTER._

"Doesn't matter. I'll answer the comms and tell them about the phase crystal." John leapt across the flowing stream, using a stepping stone in the center to catapult him across. He climbed the embankment and located the path to the nomad camp.

_THIS IS UNWISE. CATALYST 24 IS DANGEROUS AND VERY POWERFUL. HE WILL HURT YOUR PEOPLE TO GET TO YOU. I AM ONLY DESIGNED TO PROTECT YOU. _

"What do you mean, protect me?" John spat out as he strode down the trail confidently. The cliffs still seemed far away. "You've only made things worse. You put that unstable phase crystal in me! I could go off at any moment. The only reason I left Atlantis was to save them from the blast." He slowed his pace at the thought of the ridwall hearing his voice carry across the plain and he continued in a lower tone, "Now that we're talking, maybe you could explain your agenda."

_CATALYST 24 CAN TRACK A RESONATING PHASE CRYSTAL. HE MUST NOT CATCH YOU UNTIL INTEGRATION. TOGETHER WE CAN REACQUIRE HIM. _

"Great. Just great." Lt. Col. Sheppard stopped in his tracks. "You _want_ him to hunt me! Why else would you go shaking up this…phase crystal with three trips through the stargate when you could have just dialed up another planet off this grid and waited for the 'integration' to happen! And you claim to be here to protect me!"

John turned sideways and considered the trail back toward the jumper and contemplated taking it up into orbit. _That'd fix that hair-brained, limited, linear program with a stupid agenda of stranding me on this backward planet as bait._ He promptly started back toward the safety of retreat.

_STAND BY FOR DOWNLOAD. _

_Ah, that doesn't sound good._

_RUN_. And Sheppard's world went mad.

. . .

He stood in the center of a city with towering skyscrapers to every side. A wide walkway cut through the buildings with so many people passing through that he could have been standing in Hong Kong—except that no one spoke as the citizens in white pressed against each other on their commute. The mayhem erupted with screams of outrage and anger, instantly identifiable as abnormal over the chaotic tramp of thousands. A woman shoved him from one side and he ducked under another man's fist. The masses teaming in the streets turned on each other and struck out with hands, feet and any object they carried. And the sounds of carnage began.

John felt terror weaken his knees as he stumbled forward toward the security of a great black obelisk. A hand grabbed at his foot and another tore his clothes. He heard a sickening thud behind him and a blood splatter painted the woman's clothing in front of him. Shocked, he turned and caught the sight of another falling victim hitting the walkway and knocking over two men.

His feet found strength to run into the main tower entrance that opened and closed behind him. He locked it with a primary command and the madness abruptly ended. He looked around the stark foyer and glanced down at his bloodied, feminine dress that gaped open at the waist.

He was a she.

_She…_ran into the upper room of the tower and slid to a halt beside the man convulsing in the chair. His eyes were wild and his expression catatonic. He was an enabler, a talented telepath that connected the linked masses from the tower and she felt the loss deeply.

Sheppard felt the tears sliding off her cheeks as she pulled the man out of the station. The man jerked uncontrollably on the floor as she settled into the chair and closed her eyes.

A whole new world opened for John Sheppard. A blur of grey, sterile hallways bypassed him with options too fast to absorb and he found himself at the A-ware protection containment. He watched his silver strand connect and dissolve the barrier cell door between them. Fusion was almost instantaneous.

The terror that gripped him switched to the elation of a new purpose. Eagerly, he checked the stability of his host and moved on to initiate the prime tower. His subnet linked the masses and blocked the insanity.

He jumped to the next tower and stabilized the enabler sitting catatonic at his post. There was nothing he could do for the enabler but override his brain and set up a buffer of the insane broadcast.

As he moved with incredible speed between the prime towers, the numbered dead reached into the millions. The cause of the widespread insanity was instantly obvious. The scope of it narrowed it down to a catalyst, one of the specialized motivators of Integratia's civilization. Only a catalyst could spread such a disaster.

A synchronized search matched the 'event' with the moment Catalyst 24 linked into the network after his off-world mission. The matching chronometers confirmed the source, but the A-ware's mandate didn't extend to catalysts.

As the A-ware continued to block the catalyst's emissions, it sent out a probe for sanction from Catalyst One, who probed Catalyst 24 and died. It sent out another probe to Catalyst Two along with a death advisory and Catalyst Two summarily sanctioned the mission.

But by then, the damage was done and Catalyst 24 disconnected from the collective and fled back to the stargate with his research.

The A-ware found a host near the gate and abandoned the enabler. Fusion took only seconds as it gained a male flavor to its personality. In a desperate attempt to stop the catalyst before he got away, it sent the ungifted new host to intercept him.

Sheppard spotted the catalyst as he swept into the stadium with his captured entourage. Catalyst 24 paused and sent his minions to cover his exit on every side. They crowded around him, six deep and escorted him toward the stargate. His balding head and bushy red beard bobbed at the center of the crowd.

The A-ware leaped to one of the ungifted minions closest to the catalyst.

Immediately, Catalyst 24 sensed the change and turned his full fury on the one who dared to challenge his authority. Before John had a chance to move his new arm, his body flew upward toward the ceiling and he felt a ripping agony rend him in two.

In a puddle of anguish that immobilized him, he watched the catalyst step through the event horizon with his followers.

. . .

_END RUN._

John opened his eyes and spit out the dirt in his mouth. He'd done a face plant on the trail. At least the pain wasn't ripping him in two anymore. His sunglasses lay next to him on the trail and he retrieved them as he knelt in the dirt. Automatically, he took inventory as he climbed to his feet. _Two legs, two arms, one torso, head's still attached, no boobs… _"Okay, you've got my attention. What _is_ this guy?" Sheppard brushed off his knees.

_CATALYST 24 IS AN INSANE TELEPATH WITH TELEKINETIC ABILITIES._ Sheppard picked up his assault weapon, thinking he'd like to see the catalyst stop a fifteen round controlled burst to the chest._ I MUST STOP HIM FROM JOINING WITH INTEGRATIA AGAIN._

"So you set me up as bait to keep him here."

_BECAUSE YOU HAVE THE ANCIENT GENE, HE CANNOT READ YOUR INTENTIONS. HE NEEDS YOU ALIVE TO GET THE PHASE CRYSTAL BACK. _

John knocked the dirt off the submachine gun and resumed his trek to the cliffs. What remained unsaid was the A-ware's intention to upload into the catalyst when he came for the crystal. It was a classic bait and switch strategy. "All right, if we're going to do this, how much time do I have until integration and how come it's taking so long?"

_YOU ARE AN UNTRAINED ENABLER, A DRONE. THE IMPLANT CONDUITS ARE…SIMPLER FOR ENABLERS, SO THAT THEIR THOUGHTS ARE PRIVATE, LIKE NOW. YOU MUST BE ABLE TO FUNCTION THROUGH THESE CONDUITS TO OBSCURE OUR INTENTION. I ESTIMATE 24 HOURS._

"Great. Just great. Nothin' like a little Shake 'N' Bait," he muttered, "with a whole lot of potential for…_bake_." He avoided the banue manure and headed across the flats for the tents.

•

_Next chapter, _The Apex...


	14. The Apex

**The A-ware** by Fandomatic

•

**The Apex**

Evan Lorne ground his teeth and remembered Weir's words that proclaimed McKay his 'best bet on bringing Colonel Sheppard home' before he responded to the irritation that sat typing on his laptop behind him. How Sheppard put up with him, he could not fathom. Everything McKay did, grated on his nerves, and being confined in the same small cabin space of the puddle jumper for hours had worn down his professionalism to the point of pointless goading. Evan couldn't help but provoke McKay. The man overreacted to everything and his reactions at least relieved the tedium. He reflected that he'd been reduced to tormenting a five-year-old that threw a tantrum when you took away his toys. Only McKay wasn't five and he really didn't want his toys.

"What did you find, Dr. McKay?"

"Dial Atlantis," McKay repeated. "I've got to check out something with Zelenka."

"What?" Lorne's flat politeness fell far short of the innocent tone he'd adopted with McKay and the doctor reacted.

"Look, this is important and I don't have the time or the will to explain complicated physics to a glorified chauffeur." McKay's impatient tone withered his ears while he blithely continued to tap on his keyboard.

Evan's jaw muscles jumped. "Well, get out the Crayolas, _ASTRO_." He gave extra emphasis to the 'ass.'

The acronym got the doctor's attention and a smile quirked on his face for an instant. "Oh, that's funny, but 'always stating the really obvious' is overrated." He raised his eyes and caught Lorne's expression. "Oh, you're serious. Well, I don't have a Pegasus star chart in front of me and I'm not drawing you a picture." With that declaration, his attention centered back on his work.

Lorne glanced at Reed in the jumper's shotgun seat and smothered an urge to roll his eyes. Reed's thin, angular face had that tight look around his brown eyes that betrayed his amusement with his new commander and the scientist. Lorne didn't have the privilege of Reed's experience with McKay's acidic personality. He rightly guessed the older Captain Reed was adept at ducking McKay's barbed tongue because he didn't bait him.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" McKay's head had disengaged from his computer to pierce them both with an impatient eye.

"I'm waiting for the paint to dry," Lorne evenly returned and locked eyes with McKay. His blank expression said he would do nothing of the kind until the doctor had complied. First McKay had wanted to sidetrack their mission by examining the obelisk that almost obliterated their puddle jumpers as they passed through the first stargate and narrowly missed the black tower. He ranted about tracking energy emissions and Evan had reminded him they were there to track Sheppard. When the obelisk structure had repeated with each planet, McKay's excitement had multiplied and he'd chafed to explore the structures. Fortunately only one of the planets had a breathable atmosphere, until this one, and reining in McKay had been relatively easy. Lorne reminded him that he was there to explore the implant controlling Sheppard, and against his better judgment, he'd suggested the doc was welcome to take a spacewalk without a spacesuit. That just escalated the tension between them.

It was somewhat astonishing to watch emotions range across Rodney's face. A flush of impatience followed by annoyance and brief vulnerability touched his eyes before he gathered himself to explain something his body language said was a waste of time.

"Look, I've found a spatial relationship between Puzeet and two of the planets we've been to. I don't have an accurate star chart and only Zelenka can confirm the grid pattern with the Atlantis' database." McKay's eyes darted between the two and settled back on Lorne.

"Puchek." Baiting the doc was too easy.

"Puzeet, Puchek, Poo Poo, who cares!" Rodney's hands flew up with frustration. "Look, P2K-369 lines up with G1K-384 and M3K-329, the planet we're on now. They all align on the axis of K3 in perfect integrals spanning less than three light years. I just realized the other planets also have a coordinating axis off of P2K-369, too—also."

Evan's hand started dialing the DHD before McKay, with his hands stabbing at spatial references, had finished his explanation. It was not because he understood the significance of Dr. McKay's rapid-fire delivery, he dialed because he understood the necessity for support and his personal goading of McKay was secondary. "Jumper Four, we're checking in with Atlantis. Stand by."

"_Standing by," _Teyla's calm voice responded from the other jumper.

"You _are_ working on that implant override, right?" Lorne couldn't resist badgering as he steered the jumper closer to the gate as it engaged.

Rodney's brief discomfort didn't pass unnoticed. "Of course. Multitasking here." McKay bent over the computer and resumed typing.

_Unbelievable! He's lying!_ McKay wasn't going to be ready to neutralize Sheppard's implant when they found him. He couldn't even keep his mind on one little task. The arrogance of the scientist and his disregard for the welfare of his own team leader infuriated him. "Atlantis, this is Lorne. We've arrived on M3K-329. We have a viable atmosphere with vegetation and we're about to make orbit and start scanning. So far, no sign of that advanced civilization or Sheppard's ID."

"_Major Lorne,"_ Weir's voice greeted them. _"It's good to hear your voice."_ Lorne could hear the question in her voice.

"Tell Zelenka I sent him a download," McKay snapped and continued his typing. "I need these axis points confirmed with the ancient database."

"_Rodney?"_ Weir questioned. _"What's going on?"_

"I'll let you know in a minute if Zelenka can confirm it."

"_Zelenka says you have a minute before he can, so why don't you start?" _

"This is about the towers that we almost hit on every planet we've gated to in the last three hours. I just recorded a one hundred percent jump in emissions at this tower. It is now reading eight hundred percent higher than my readings when we first started. They are compounding at a rate of—"

"_Do you realize what this means?"_ Dr. Zelenka's Czechoslovakian accent thickened with his excitement.

"It doesn't mean squat if they don't form a grid, Radek."

"_Axis K3 confirmed. I am checking the others."_

"_What do you mean? What have you found, Rodney?"_ Weir's voice was immediately followed by Radek's reply.

"_Yes, yes. The alignment is complete. This star cluster forms a perfect grid for about six days, beginning thirty-four hours ago, and then P2K-369 moves off alignment with axis K3." _Rodney's fingers stopped typing.

"_Rodney, what's going on?"_ Weir's voice interrupted.

McKay ignored the question. "And the apex is…?"

Together they both chorused, "Thirty-eight hours."

"_Seven minutes," finished Radek._

"Less than a day and a half," Rodney muttered. "Elizabeth, I really need to look at these power towers located on these worlds before their power emissions escalate much more."

"_Rodney!"_

"Elizabeth, the interior of the ancient outpost on P2K-369 mirrors the location of these six planets perfectly on each facing wall. The six planets form a perfect six-sided grid around Puchek. In fact, if each planet had its own symbol, it could describe the location of P2K-369 as a stargate address for the next four and a half days. And my calculations tell me the energy emissions building up from the six towers on these worlds will reach critical mass in thirty-eight hours, the same time the apex occurs. But we don't have thirty-eight hours. The towers are situated almost on top of the stargates on every planet. I really need to look inside one of these towers and get back to that ancient temple before too much energy builds up."

"Dr. Weir," Lorne frowned at McKay and controlled his growing fury at the doctor's attempt to derail his rescue mission. "We'll be finished sweeping the planet in less than twenty minutes. This is the last one on the list and it's sparsely populated. After we're finished, I suggest we let McKay do his _sightseeing_ on G1K-384, at the trader's gate, while we put some boots to the ground and follow up with the locals. The trader's world was the only habitable planet besides Puchek and this one, and it had more people."

"Elizabeth," Rodney glared at Lorne. "I think Sheppard's going to be at the ancient temple when this power array spikes, and I need to get there before he does."

Lorne's eyes narrowed as he puzzled over the doctor's leap of logic. He wasn't the only one.

"_How do you figure that, Rodney?"_

"Sheppard did something to power down the Puchek temple. The ancient building is somehow the focus of this power array. It sits center-stage, in alignment between six towers that are about to go critical in thirty-eight hours. Without a channel for all this energy, these towers just might blow up their planets."

"_Seriously?"_

"Of course, seriously! We're talking about some serious energy compounding going on in these towers. The output doubles about every half-hour and there's a large supply of naquadah in these stargates sitting right next to them. Armageddon comes to mind. And if we don't do something now, before too much power builds up, finding Sheppard is going to be a moot point!"

Major Lorne frowned and cleared his throat in the growing silence. Dr. McKay had just added a ticking clock to their search and it was galling to think he might have a point. "Then we better find him fast."

Weir was silent for a moment._ "I agree. If John did something to the temple and these towers, we need to find him. The search takes priority. Evan, proceed with your plan. Rodney, you've got your chance to look over the tower." _

"Look, you still don't get it. I only scratched the surface of information at the ancient outpost. Whatever that site is set up to do is massive—on a galactic-scale massive—and it involves six stargates with the potential to decimate six planets. What I'm trying to say is that Sheppard might be the enemy here and the ancient outpost is going to have all the answers."

Evan glared at the scientist. He might as well have told them there was nothing he could do for Sheppard when they found him. _Damn. That's what he's really saying. He can't get by the implant coding._

"_Right now, Puchek is out of the question. The Puchek darts pack a fatal dose of poison."_

"Seriously?"

"_Yes, seriously. We're not there, yet, Rodney." _Elizabeth wasn't giving up on finding Sheppard and the tension in her voice told him Rodney shouldn't either. _"Let's take it a step at a time. Look over the tower and when you come up with something more concrete, I'll consider it. Weir out."_

"What could be more concrete than six planets about to blow up?" Bewildered, Rodney blinked at Lorne, who he noticed had not supported him with Weir.

"Try _genocide_," Lorne dry voice answered. He nodded to Reed and the captain shut down the gate. "Jumper Two to Jumper Four. We're ready to go."

"Genocide? Who said anything about genocide?"

As they climbed up over the flat plains to enter a low orbit with the escort of the cloaked jumper, Lorne's lips thinned with annoyance. As much as McKay complained that they didn't get it, the doc still didn't get it. "Because that's what it'll take to secure that site against a bunch of fanatics. You said we had thirty-eight hours, let's use them."

"Well, it's more like twenty-eight hours since the accumulating power is going to start affecting stargate operations because of its close proximity. And if the stargates engage with that much power building up next door, let's just say travel to these worlds in twenty-eight hours is going to get dicey!" McKay's typing resumed after he muttered something about a colonel-chaos theory.

"Lorne to Colonel Sheppard, come in please," Lorne broadcast over his headset. "We're in orbit and scanning for your locator beacon on M3K-329." The heads up display bloomed into a precise planetary search grid pattern that required only one orbit to complete. It remained empty of any graphics that would point to Sheppard's position from radio broadcasts to subcutaneous transmitters. "Colonel, if you can hear me, please respond…"

As the jumpers completed their orbit and returned to gate-side, Lorne tried to ignore Captain Reed's worried glances. Just having the seasoned Pegasus officer so obviously concerned with the results tightened the knot in his stomach. Their chances of finding their CO had just plummeted.

•

_Next chapter, _Trade Relations...


	15. Trade Relations

**The A-ware** by Fandomatic

•

**Trade Relations**

Lt. Col. Sheppard could feel the phase crystal vibrating like a second heart against his ribs. Well, not really _against_ his ribs, more like a tingling sensation that numbed and interrupted his nerve paths. And he understood that that sensation was due to the A-ware's containment, not really the resonating crystal. In fact, he shouldn't be able to feel the crystal at all since it really had very little substance in this dimension. But he could feel it, like he could feel a hole without edges that tugged on his edges where they met. There was something about it that just made him feel really _off._

His path had followed the stream bed, paralleling the red cliffs, but it took a turn up toward the higher plain and Sheppard climbed toward the horizon.

As he mounted the rise, he spotted the tents tucked in against the cliff wall. At the top of the rise he came to a halt and glanced quickly back the way he'd come. No movement betrayed their presence, but he knew they were there, watching him, since the split of the stream bed. Whoever stalked him moved as skillfully as Ronon.

The 'off feeling' in his chest faded as he hailed the nomad camp with a traditional whistle and arm wave. With his aviator glasses back in his pocket, he planted his feet on the rise and remained rock still, while the fathers slowly gathered between the tents. The crystal had inexplicably calmed down and a search for the reason brought up his blood pressure.

_You know, lying to me is generally not a good idea, especially when I can access your crappy little database. _

The AI remained silent.

_You just drained all my batteries to contain that crystal! Now how am I supposed to call for backup or get back to Atlantis?_

_WE ARE BEING SURROUNDED._

_Really?_ Sheppard's sarcasm dripped._ You just picked up on that or me not talking clued you in?_ His nostrils flared. _And quit trying to sidetrack me. You also lied about the crystal causing splintering. It was the temple that was doing that but you wanted me to steal the crystal. The splitting is happening because you've wired in the implant for an enabler so your crazy criminal can't see you coming! You're a lying viral program, designed to hijack bodies and lock up minds!_

_I AM DESIGNED TO BLOCK INSANE THOUGHTS._

_I've seen you in action, remember? They had you locked up in a vault. What's the real reason behind this 24-hour integration? Not enough juice to control me and hold the crystal?_

_YOU ARE UPSET._

_Damn right, I'm upset. You've taken away every advantage I had and put me on the defensive._

The delegation formed and the leaders started their approach to check him out. Not that they hadn't done that already. He looked up at the red cliffs towering above them and figured the nomads had an early warning system posted at the top, maybe a few men aiming projectiles at him, too. It didn't surprise him when one of the nomads silently appeared from behind.

_Now, shut up, and let me make some friends here. It's what I do best._

Of the five fathers spreading out in a semicircle around him, two of them looked weathered and ancient and reminded him of Polynesians dressed in leathers. In fact, their clothing looked similar to the synthetic fur found at the Puchek graveyard. The other three were younger and sized him up with challenging sneers. One of the biggest ones flanking him flexed a meat hook of an arm. They didn't appear very friendly and he got the distinct impression they weren't impressed with his physical bearing at all. He quelled the urge to raise his P90 any higher.

"Hi. I'm John Sheppard and I heard you could light a trading fire."

For a moment, the hostility wavered until the oldest man's stony face cracked into a sunny grin with broken and missing teeth. "Hiya!" His left arm shot out and he signaled the cliff with a jerk of his arm downward. "I am K'eye." The old man thumped his chest with a fist and raised it above his head. "We will light the trading fire tonight!"

Instant grins broke out among the nomads and Sheppard felt one of them almost knock him off his feet with a friendly blow aimed at his shoulders. K'eye grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the camp with surprising strength for a withered looking guy. "T'ay will be so pleased to have a stranger at our trading fire again!"

"Great," Sheppard found himself a little off-balance after their abrupt mood swing.

"This is our third trading fire this season. We are blessed!" K'eye's broken grin beamed at his people gathering around them as they walked toward the tents.

"I am Da'ki." The second eldest thumped his chest with a fist. "Brother to K'eye and clan father." His chin lifted slightly. "What clan do you hail and what kind of garment is this?" He fingered a tac vest pocket with a hand caked with dirt.

It was just a little too close to the grenade he had stashed inside the pocket. "Whoa, there, Grandpa." He grabbed the fingers. "Those pockets have some teeth in them that can bite." Da'Ki withdrew his hand with surprise.

"He has a varmint garment," a high-pitched voice floated over his shoulder and Da'ki found this hilarious along with the rest of the clansmen.

"Ha, very funny," Sheppard turned to see a small boy with a dirty face get yanked back behind a pack of older brothers. He heard a muffled "Ow."

"To answer your question, I came through the Ring of the Ancestors and these are pockets, to store stuff in." He ripped up one of the Velcro flaps and fished out a chocolate bar. "Now, where'd the little 'varmint' go?"

"That is za'Kiyah," K'eye motioned to the group of boys and za'Kiyah was quickly shoved forward.

"za'Kiyah, huh? Well, I know a few Zechiahs back on my home planet." John broke a small piece off of the chocolate bar and ate it. He handed the rest of it to za'Kiyah, who suspiciously tried it. His eyes widened and he looked at Sheppard with instant wonder in his eyes. John smiled and thought, _That just never gets old._

Later that evening as the darkness deepened under the cliff, Colonel Sheppard sighed and settled back against the hard back of the red boulder, trying to find a more comfortable position. He felt something soft inserting itself behind him and he flinched back to find himself faced with a beautiful native wielding a furred cushion. He accepted her cushion with an apologetic smile, feeling foolish for being so jumpy and she shyly tucked it behind him.

The hospitality of the clan had amazed him like so many other Pegasus worlds. Their people were hungry for news of other worlds and strangers who carried the news were pampered. And the clan fathers definitely had beautiful daughters to pamper their guests. He'd noticed the imbalance almost immediately as the delegation arrived among the tents and twice as many girls surrounded him. Not that he was complaining, but a guy could just eat so much and every single woman had an exotic dish they wanted him to try at the trading fire.

Needless to say, despite attempts to pace himself, he was stuffed and the evening had just begun. Ten elder men sat around the small bonfire while over twenty lasses dished out drinks with gourd dippers that were shared as common drinking cups. The swill was as close to moonshine as he cared to get. If he accepted a drink from every girl, he'd be drunk before the trading began, which probably worked very well for the nomads.

Beyond the cliff amphitheater they sat in, the rest of the clan either worked around cooking fires or arranged themselves in the gallery. As the one with his back against the wall, literally, he figured he was the prime entertainment in the arena.

The pillow bearer dipped into her moonshine and offered him a drink which Sheppard refused with a sad shake of his head.

"Ha! Girl, off with you and leave that," K'eye settled down next to John, followed by five of his grand nieces, who arranged his cushions around him. The pitcher of moonshine was left between them and K'eye helped himself to it, ignoring the fuss his nieces made.

"You throw a fine party, K'eye. I can't remember the last time I ate so much."

K'eye grunted. "T'ay will be pleased."

John shot a look up at the cooking fires with the cross old woman who'd been introduced as K'eye's mate and doubted she would be pleased about anything. His earlier refusal to accept their tent for his quarters had just increased her hostility. It had cracked just the tiniest when he'd insisted on staying at the bachelor encampment around the edge of the cliff. He intended to keep the crystal as far away as possible from K'eye's clan.

"Your third trading fire this season, you said, for strangers that came through the ring?" John waved off another offer of food and his eyes followed her pretty legs.

K'eye grunted again and watched Sheppard watching his grand nieces. "Yes, we lit our fire for the pilgrims on the path of the seven temples to Dementia, who camped not too far from our tents."

Something in his tone brought Sheppard's eyes back to a black scowl, but it wasn't directed at him. "A misguided brotherhood," he continued and then shot a wary look toward his guest. "You're not of the Integrated. You don't have the look."

_Integrated?_ He sat up a bit straighter. "Did you happen to see a bald guy with a red beard among them, kind of on the pudgy side?"

"Ah," the crinkled fellow tapped his temple and leaned closer. "See him, yes. Meet him, no. Why? Do you seek the path?"

"No." _So the crazy catalyst had been here with all of his dead followers._

"Ah, you have the look of a warrior."

John's eyebrows shot up. "I do?"

The old one snorted. "Youth. Always looking." He grinned and cast an arm out over the fire. "You'll not have to fear the Wraith here. They've not come for seven centuries."

"Seven _hundred_ years?" Sheppard followed the gesture and realized that none of the clan's generations were missing, something of a novelty in the Pegasus Galaxy. Notice exhibit A, an over-abundance of youthful, single females. It should have been the first thing he saw, but his own familiarity with peace had blinded him. "Why do they leave you alone?"

K'eye shrugged. "We have a hard enough life as it is without asking foolish questions of a predator."

"Right, that's bad. Important safety tip there," John agreed sagely.* "The, uh, Integrated. Are they from around here?" _And, more importantly,_ he thought,_ do they protect this planet from the Wraith?_

_INTEGRATIA POLICIES ARE NOT WITHIN MY FUNCTION. _

_Not talking to you._

"No," K'eye shook his wrinkled head. "The travelers of the rings, they hide their origin and hold their secret paths tight. These seven temples they journey to are all on other worlds that they do not care to share. Our world is but a convenient rest between their temples."

Sheppard inwardly scoffed at that. The Puchek temple laid out the other six temples pretty clearly. The integrated seemed to be as skilled at lying as the A-ware. "You lack worlds to trade with?"

The hesitant nod spoke volumes.

"Then you would trade for paths through the ring?"

The yellowed eyes glimmered. "This is a thing I would give much for. My people have no paths through the Ring of the Ancestors." His eyes appraised the other. "My people have a need of new blood. Perhaps you would find a life free of Wraith attractive?" He turned to a niece at his side and levered her into the fire light. "an'Naya. Is she not a fine woman with a shapely form?"

Sheppard's eyes widened and he gazed helplessly at the shy girl who'd brought him the back cushion, at a loss for appropriate words. Her dark eyes laughed at his shock. She was use to her uncle showing her off. "Ah, indeed," John swallowed hard. "A very, very fine woman." _Okay, stop gaping like an idiot and put the brakes on this._ "But I'm sure she's worth more than a few paths through the ring."

"Then ta'Vana." He gestured to another grand niece and she approached daintily. "She perhaps meets with your approval?" He leaned closer and winked. "Her father is near destitute and I know he will accept little for her bond."

_What is this? The blue light special?_ John shook his head and shifted uncomfortably. "No offense—your nieces are very beautiful—but I'm not looking for, uh, a bond. I can't take a woman."

Puzzled, the old man looked around at his wealth of females and back at the unbonded man that looked so obviously embarrassed. He'd had no trouble admiring his nieces. "If you have not come to our trading fire for a bond, what have you come for?"

"Just, uh, a banue."

K'eye grunted. "T'ay will _not_ be pleased."

•

*Ghostbusters.

_Next chapter…_The Hunted


	16. The Hunted

**The A-ware** by Fandomatic

•

**The Hunted**

The rush of adrenaline had him reaching for his sidearm under his pillow. Sheppard fluidly rose out of the furs with the Para-Ordnance P14-45 already cocked and froze, taking in the dark lines of the tent and the gently snoring bundles scattered around its perimeter. The freezing night air instantly cooled his bare arms and legs.

_GOOD. YOU'RE AWAKE._

"What the hell was that?" Sheppard breathed out. The alarm bells were still going off in his head.

_THE CATALYST PROBED FOR A LINK. I BLOCKED IT. YOU WERE ASLEEP._

_Okay. He's here then._

_HE'S HERE._

_Six hours. I've got a six hour head start on him and I'm starving. Why the hell am I starving? I ate enough for Ronon last night. Where are my clothes? _He automatically disengaged the pistol and returned it to his holster.

John Sheppard's stomach growled as he reached for his pants and quickly pulled them on. They seemed a bit too loose and he paused as he fastened the waist. "You're stealing calories, aren't you?" he hissed and grabbed his light jacket. "Oh, you are a _piece_ of work, you know that?"

_IN FOUR HOURS I WILL BE ABLE TO CONTAIN THE CRYSTAL AND TRAVEL THROUGH THE GATE._

John looked at his watch and automatically illuminated the dial, but of course the battery was dead.

_IT IS 07:12 ATLANTIS STANDARD TIME. YOU SHOULD EAT._

"You're worse than a tapeworm," John growled and slipped on his tac vest and started strapping in. His voice stirred one of the sleeping bundles and a brown head of hair rose up from the covers to appraise him coolly. His status as a trader last night hadn't won him any favors within the tent of unattached single men. He'd gathered that these non-relations were here for one purpose—to win a bond.

"You are leaving?"

John zipped up the vest and sat down to pull on his boots. "Yes."

"It's early."

"How long to first light?" _Now there's a stupid question._ When the tent wall resolved into a glowing watch face, John abandoned the boot straps and stared. According to the dial, sunrise came at 09:33 Atlantis Standard time, in two hours and 21 minutes.

"I think it must be the last quarter."

Sheppard blinked and the watch dissolved. "Yeah, I think you're right." _That's kinda cool._ He resumed cinching up the boot and considered his known tactical position of twelve hours until Tag-You're-It. With a six hour lead and an option to use the gate in four, he thought he could survive another six hours of Hide-N-Seek. That is, if he could play Keep-Away in the dark. Part of the trade for the banue included his night-vision goggles. It had seemed like a good idea at the time.

Instantly, a computer-generated overlay outlined his boots with green edges. _Night vision? _He looked around the tent and thought it was like looking at a two dimensional drawing, with little depth. His depth perception changed dramatically and the room brightened while the green edges faded. He smiled and tied his boots. _This is cool. How about a targeting scope?_

Red crosshairs appeared in mid-focus and he smiled at the young man at 3.28 meters across the tent. _I bet I could get an infrared dot where I aim, too._ He looked down at his forty-five and followed the muzzle along his thigh to the tent wall. A red dot hovered over the sleeping bundles. He moved his leg and the dot moved on the wall. _Definitely cool._

"Where are you going?"

John's targeting array disappeared and he focused on the young man, a kid really, just out of his teens. Like the Terminator, a list of stats appeared next to his enhanced image: male; 21; brown hair; dark brown eyes; brown skin; Mongolian; 5' 10"; 163 pounds; name, za'Gaen. _Talk about a heads up display!_

"I'm heading across the flats." The stats disappeared and his HUD displayed a simple map with the catalyst's expected path along with his own that circled around toward the south of the gate. Interestingly, the catalyst's path curved to follow his progress and intercepted him before he could reach the stargate.

"Back to the Ring of the Ancestors?"

Distractedly he glanced at za'Gaen. "No. Guess not." His mind flipped through several options and the catalyst's path curved to follow his each time. He started thinking more deviously and traced a path away from the camp and away from the gate. He charted the trail at a walking pace which could draw the catalyst to him and away from the clan. Then he made a break for the gate and it turned into a simple race in which he had a rested banue and the catalyst had a tired one.

_IT WON'T WORK. HE CAN RIP YOU IN TWO IF HE SEES YOU._

_Thanks for that visual._ That left the canyons due north of the gate and east of the cliff. _You said he needed me alive to get the phase crystal._

The canyons twisted back upon themselves in a maze of red rock. He recognized the terrain from the puddle jumper's HUD as he'd flown over. The implant recalled it in perfect detail. He doubted the catalyst had the same download. This was his advantage. He could beat the catalyst to the canyons easily and navigate them, keeping the catalyst to his rear and forcing him to follow, using the terrain.

The heads up display faded and Sheppard picked up his pack and fished out two emergency ration bars and tossed one to za'Gaen. "It's food. Wanna help me with the banue? I got more of those." He ripped his bar open and took a bite.

za'Gaen copied him and chewed slowly. "Help you leave? T'ay will not be pleased."

"Well, I won't be here to rat you out," John said around his mouthful as three more heads popped up from their covers. He swallowed. They'd been listening. "Although, _they_ might and I don't have that many bars left." He thought he'd have to eat the whole lot to get rid of his hunger. He tore off another bite with his teeth.

Za'Gaen looked at the others and slight nods passed between them. They all wanted him to leave. _That's a comfort._

When he finished gearing up, Za'Gaen accompanied him to his new prize Banue cow and promptly got reintroduced. Sheppard's first encounter with the banue hadn't gone well and he was hoping for a better experience. But the reintroduction solidified his opinion. His banue had a very mean streak.

The moment before za'Gaen handed him the reins, the prized cow reached over and bit his outstretched arm. za'Gaen snorted and reached into the banue's sizable maw and triggered a jaw tendon so the beast would let go. He showed Sheppard the spot along with a few rudimentary handling lessons and then disappeared with his emergency ration bars back toward the bachelor's tent.

Banues came in the size of a small elephant and were essentially a herd animal of the flats. Like an elephant, the rider rode over the shoulders, essentially hanging on to a yoke over the neck and guided the beast with a swat strap, or leg bumps if the banue was sensitive. They had a thick, camel-like neck that Sheppard found out was only good for swiveling around and biting the rider.

It was nothing like riding a horse.

After the fifth painful bite, he finally figured out what the reins were for and attached the rope to the banue's breast strap rings on the yoke. Even though it kept the banue from turning about and biting his legs again, it was too little, too late. The banue knew he didn't know what he was doing.

For hours he struggled to get the beast headed toward the canyons on the right vector at a ground eating pace, but his HUD terrain map showed him weaving like a drunk since sun up—much like the earlier two hours he'd charted with the stars—and the catalyst's path made a beeline to an interception point before he reached the first canyon.

He needed speed and the banue's path seemed to be determined by the tastiness of the tallest grasses. John accessed the implant database for every scrap of information on banues he could find. The scroll of information came in a cumbersome format, so he did a quick search for speed and applied the swat strap to the beast's rump firmly.

The banue growled and turned off the path to grab another mouthful of grass.

"This is not funny!" The swat strap hit the other side of the rump with the sting of a very frustrated pilot.

The banue bolted.

John almost slid off the backside and made a desperate grab for the yoke handle. His legs had slipped out of position and the P90 jerked up and down on its strap, banging against his arm and hitting the yoke with a terrifying clatter.

Sensing his imminent fall, the banue squealed and doubled her efforts.

Sheppard doubled his efforts to get his legs back under him, too busy to curse the stubborn beast, and too agonized over his tenderized testicles to do much more than hang on when he got seated again.

The red haze in front of his eyes cleared slowly and he became aware of the P90 thumping against his thigh because he was doubled over the yoke. He tightened his arm around it and hoped the safety was still engaged. His HUD had disappeared because all he could think about was the torture going on in his nethers.

Sheppard decided shooting the beast was too merciful, although a little projectile therapy in the form of a single SS190 round to the back of the neck would certainly make _him_ feel better—that is, if it didn't damage his P90. Then at least he could get a tasty steak dinner out of the banue if he survived this mad dash. His stomach grumbled hungrily at the promise of food and he vowed to start calling the banue T-bone, in honor of its final hour.

The wild-eyed banue had settled into a flat-out run toward the northern canyons, further north of the stargate than Sheppard wanted, but also further away from the catalyst's interception point. The beast torpedoed across the flats toward the gaping rifts, beating down the tall grass beneath its stout pads with little regard for obstacles in its path.

It ignored any attempt of guidance as Sheppard clung to its yoke with growing concern. They were making good time and he really didn't want to shoot it just to stop, but the verralbranch bushes dotting the flats were getting bigger and thicker and they had stiff spines that could rip open a leg.

The database showed him he had rigged the reins wrong. They were actually used for something other than keeping teeth away from the rider. The ropes were supposed to run through the rings and tie off on the yoke handle so the rider could cinch the head down below the grass line where it couldn't see. Evidently it was how a rider applied the brakes. There was no way he could reroute the reins while the banue was in a flat-out charge.

_za'Gaen, you little bastard! Oh, crap._ And the banue veered to the right under him with the grace of a running back, dodging the bushes and tossing Sheppard from side to side like a racquetball match.

Sheppard's curses had degenerated into a one-worded mantra as the banue broke through the last of the verralbranches and careened toward the edge of the canyon.

With an all-consuming pain in his crotch, he paid little attention to the path of the banue as the agony reduced him to immediate self-preservation. The voice of reason in his head flowed in and out of his pain-filled thoughts and only broke through when he started fantasizing about roasting banue rump over an open fire.

_THE RIFT IS COMING UP TOO FAST. YOU'RE NOT GOING TO BE ABLE TO STOP THE BANUE IN TIME. JUMP OFF. TOO LATE._

The banue planted its pads in the topsoil and slid on its hindquarters toward the edge. Sheppard flung his leg over the handle and tried to slide off the beast. Rider and banue skidded sideways the last few yards with just enough momentum to send them over the edge.

Sheppard dropped six meters next to the banue and landed hard on its ribcage when the banue hit the ledge below. He slid to the ground without an ounce of air in his lungs and turned slowly blue beside the trembling animal.

His gasp of indrawn breath matched that of the banue's and the banue struggled to get to its feet, kicking Sheppard in the process. It stood frozen over its rider, trembling on quaking legs on the narrow ledge and blowing hard. John held his ribs and fought for air and release from the pain in his side and his abused crotch.

The AI interrupted his vindictive stream of curses with a calm analysis of his tactical situation which was pretty good if he could just get moving.

John answered it with a more lucid chain of thought, littered with crudely punctuated literary adjectives, in which he detailed how he was going to sucker punch a camel-headed bitch; open the first Pegasus banue barbecue; and serve it up to his first customer, that soulless, bastard za'Gaen; because, surely, the bitch-meat was just as poisonous as her personality—just as _soon_ as he was able to stand up.

_YOU ARE UPSET._

"Damn right, I'm upset! This was a bad idea from the start!"

_YOUR DAMAGE IS MINIMAL._

"Well, it doesn't feel _minimal_."

_IF YOU ARE IN PAIN, YOU SHOULD BLOCK THE NERVES._

"What?" But he had already tuned out the AI's voice because the pain abruptly cut off as soon as he'd understood. He rolled over and stood up carefully. _You know, pain is there for a reason, so you don't move and damage anything._ He eased up on the pain block and ended up leaning over his knees.

If an AI could sigh, the program gave a great illusion of one. _YOU'RE NOT THINKING CLEARLY. INITIALIZE HEALING._

_Really?_ John looked at his crotch, an easy thing to do when clutching your knees and thought, _Okay, heal the boys._

_INITIALIZATION REQUIRES ACCESS PROTOCOLS FOR THE NON-INTEGRATED._

_What? Never mind._ John closed his eyes and remembered the corridors in the enabler's memories and felt a rush as the rooms flashed by his senses. The halls continued to pinwheel without direction and closed doorways pivoted at random toward him. The faceless doors started to make him dizzy and he thought a linear menu system would've worked much better for Integratia. The door that stabilized in front of him had 'MENU' stenciled on it.

_Ah, so that's how it works. Heal the boys._ The doors and corridors rotated at a dizzying rate and rushed him right at the door with 'HEAL THE BOYS' on it.

He stared at the closed door and visualized the enabler opening the A-ware containment door with a silver strand. The tingling began in his spine and gravitated to his scalp. He watched the silver extend out and touch the door. The door opened and the corridor abruptly dissolved leaving him in darkness.

He opened his eyes to a view of his crotch.

"What the hell? That just feels weird." John straightened with a groan. He'd forgotten about the bruised ribs he could thank T-bone for. _I shoulda put in an order for ribs, too._ The corridor rushed past him and the door 'ADAM's TENDERIZED RIBS' opened and dissolved before he could blink. "Order up."

He looked at the terrified banue with a little less hostility. The gray banue looked all right, just shaken and dirty from the short plunge. She had come through without a dent in her thick hide. His body still ached, but the pain was fading.

Sheppard took a look over the edge and whistled. The gorge dropped thirty meters into the canyon, and the ledge they landed on narrowed as it angled up toward the rim to the south. To the north, the ledge widened and dropped, giving way to a landslide that had buried it eons ago.

"T-bone, you almost turned into spam." John untied the reins from the yoke rings, passed them through, and threw the ropes over the top handle several feet above him. He had to climb up to tie the reins off on the handle properly. Judging from the width of the neck and the enormous size of the banue, it would take some considerable strength to pull the head in.

He slid off the beast and grabbed the reins under its chin firmly. The heads up display had a better entry point further south that would almost lead straight back to the stargate. This entry point took a detour twice as long to the north and eventually joined up with the canyon to the south. Besides that, he didn't think he'd get the banue to cooperated sliding thirty-five meters down a rock slide. So he turned T-bone toward the rim and mounted the beast. With a gentle tap, they followed the narrowing ledge toward the rim.

_YOU NEED TO MOVE FASTER. _

_Hey, this is important. You can't rush recovery._

_CATALYST 24'S TOP RANGE IS ALREADY OVERLAPPING OUR PATH._

He hated repeating the AI's brief revelations. _Top range?_

_THE CATALYST'S AVERAGE RANGE IS BASED ON AN AVERAGE PROXIMITY OF WILD BANUE TO THE STARGATE._

"You're telling me he can ride a wild banue?" T-bone's rounded ears pricked forward and Sheppard felt an ominous rumble purr through the ribcage under him. His heads up display updated the topographical map to include the average range of a banue around the stargate and the vectors that would bring it to the catalyst. Sure enough, the catalyst could be right on top of him if the wild banue were close to the gate.

_HE'S A TELEPATH._

T-bone snorted and raised her head trying to see over the canyon edge. _I can't even ride this tame banue! This was such a bad idea._

A distant bugling caused a responsive rumbling in T-bone's chest. The intake of air expanded the ribs under Sheppard and her erupting trumpet echoed through the canyon. His HUD updated with the new positions automatically.

"Way to give up our position, bonehead!" He totally ignored the fact that he had a targeting beacon in his chest and turned the balking banue back around to head toward the slide. With the catalyst on higher ground, he was a big, banue-sitting target. The swat strap came down firmly and T-bone danced sideways along the ledge. The wild banue excited the cow and she didn't want to go the way Sheppard wanted to go.

She rotated as the ledge widened and no amount of leg bumps or swats would convince the banue to step out onto the unstable landslide. T-bone backed up and Sheppard convinced the banue to return to the edge.

_INBOUND MISSILE. TWELVE O'CLOCK HIGH._

The puff of displaced air where they'd just been was the only other warning he had before the resounding boom of rock hitting rock rocketed the banue down the landslide on its flanks. The boulder broke the ledge, split into several smaller missiles and bounced out over the abyss. They bounced ahead of him into the red canyon and hit the fan further down, dislodging dirt and destabilizing the ground from below. The earth started moving with one purpose.

Sheppard and the banue cow started sliding with it.

•

_Next chapter, _Target Practice...


	17. Target Practice

**The A-ware** by Fandomatic

•

**Target Practice**

John hung on and prayed as he spotted several more inbound SUV-sized boulders hurtling toward them. He threw his weight to the left and yelled at the banue to "MOVE IT!" T-bone's rear slid faster and spun her sideways and she lunged across the fan toward the stable northern side. Another lunge and the banue's giant pads hit firmer soil and she took a giant running leap down the steep face of the slide and plunged downward in a swirl of red dirt and stones.

The two boulders hit the landslide in succession right next to them where they'd been only seconds ago. The shock wave rippled the ground under them and turned the slide into a liquid avalanche.

The banue's pads rammed into the canyon floor with a bone-jarring thud and she vaulted toward the turn ahead with a terrified bellow. John shifted his weight to the left and kicked his right foot hard. He was rewarded with a pivot toward the safety of the canyon wall as more stone missiles bombarded their right flank. The noise reverberated between the walls, adding to the banue's terror.

The bombardment continued as man and beast flew around the canyon bend with the banue reacting to each crash with a predictable pivot that alarmed Sheppard's instincts. Although the assault intensified, it suffered in accuracy as the falling rock drove the banue forward toward certain doom. John cursed T-bone's instincts and threw his whole weight into pulling her off-balance. When she over-compensated, a flying boulder narrowly missed them. And her slower recovery saved them from a barrage of smaller stones ahead. Regaining its momentum, the banue hurtled into the twisting canyon.

Abruptly, the offense shifted to the rock face overhead and sharp fragments ricocheted off the wall and peppered them from above. John heard a foreboding rumble ahead and above, and he leaned over the yoke and yelled at the banue in panic, _"Move it! Move it! Move it!"_

The face of the cliff broke away overhead, cracking with tremendous stress and sliding down the side of the canyon with an impressive thunder. Below, Sheppard's voice was lost in the roar dropping toward their heads. T-bone, running on hysteria, bolted in a linear trajectory into the main canyon and out from under of the path of a gigantic monolith.

The rumble and ground-shaking quake roared in his ears as the banue fled toward the safety of another twisting turn. The banue's gait dialed up to full-stampede and she wasn't slowing down. John appreciated her wisdom as he hung on, leaving the blocked canyon and the hail of rocks far behind.

His bruised body ached from the fragment fallout and he quickly assessed the banue's damage. Her grey hide had turned a dirty red from the dirt clinging to her and dozens of fresh cuts littered her rump, exposing a thick callused under skin. The banue moved easily and had survived the ordeal without serious injury.

He'd survived with a few minor cuts from the flying debris and he still ached from T-bone's earlier abuse.

Sheppard brought up the HUD to guide them to the southern canyon he'd targeted earlier. Because their entry point was too far north, this canyon didn't connect to the southern route, but twisted toward stargate east, taking him through a winding detour. The trail they traveled led into a maze of buttes and ridges and the map revealed an unobstructed path into the eastern canyon system, which eventually connected south. So he let her choose her own way and hung on.

T-bone's mad dash had settled into a purposeful gallop by the time they reached the southern route and John tried to turn her toward it. T-bone would have none of it. The banue plowed by the connecting rift and Sheppard unhooked the ropes to haul her in.

With the rope loose, the banue swung her neck around and pulled the ropes through his hands with incredible strength and the fight for control began.

"Ow! You stupid…" The banue cow pivoted around, chasing his leg with her teeth and John hauled on the rope to keep her bared teeth in check. When she went for the other leg, twisting like a contortionist, he frantically hooked the rein back onto the yoke and looked for the swat strap, which he'd lost. "Stop that! It's not my fault your hide is pitted." He bumped her left shoulder and T-bone twisted toward the connecting rift and plunged in like it was her idea.

Sheppard looked down at his wet hands and grimaced. It wasn't sweat that made the rope so slick. Blood oozed from his filleted palms. T-bone's reins had inflicted some severe rope burns when he'd unhooked them from the yoke handle. With hardly a second thought about it, he blocked the nerves and initiated the healing program.

As they navigated the narrow passage, a distant cry broke the dumbstruck silence of the canyons. T-bone's tired head lifted and she nervously pranced as the prolonged distress of a banue shattered her peace. Its sustained bellow degenerated into a tortured howl of abject panic.

_What the hell?_ The beast's pads lifted higher and threatened to make a break for it.

_BASED ON TRAJECTORIES AND TOPOGRAPHY, CATALYST 24 IS LEVITATING HIS WILD BANUE INTO THE CANYON ON THIS SIDE OF THE BLOCKAGE._

_Oh, crap! He can jump canyon walls?_ He gritted his teeth. "T-bone, I'm right behind you on that running thing!" T-bone needed little encouragement. She maneuvered out of the rift and galloped into another system of canyons.

His six hour lead had turned into a twenty minute lead with a sound pummeling plus more of the same to look forward to until_ 'integration.' _It was time for a serious change of strategy, a flat out retreat to the stargate. For the next eight hours, he intended to escape south, staying well ahead of the crazy catalyst and return to Puchek where he was unloading his personal bull's-eye at the temple. He was through with the AI's bait plan.

_RETURNING THE PHASE CRYSTAL WOULD BE CATASTROPHIC._

_Here's me, _not_ liking it. He's trying to kill me, not capture or corner me, _kill_ me! There's no middle ground here. That was not the actions of a caring person. He doesn't _care_ to keep me alive._

_HE IS INSANE. YOU MADE HIM MAD._

_I made him mad? Are you insane?_ Anger coursed through his temples and he wanted to strangle the AI. _You're driving me nuts! I think you lied about him needing me alive to get the crystal back._

_HE DOES, BUT DYING WOULD WORK, TOO._

_And you're fine with that? Oh, of _course_, you are,_ John realized. _Well, that might work for you, but it doesn't work for me. I'm taking it home._

The loaded silence from the Artificial Intelligence made him suspicious. After several blows to get T-bone's attention and turn her into a side canyon with a black layer of rock, he prompted the AI. _What?_

_STAND BY FOR SECURITY UPGRADE. _

_Uh oh. Why do I get the feeling I'm not gonna like this either?_

_RETURNING THE PHASE CRYSTAL WOULD CAUSE A PHASE IMPLOSION ACROSS DIMENSIONS WITH CATASTROPHIC CONSEQUENCES FOR OUR UNIVERSE._

_What? What 'consequences?'_

_A DIMENSIONAL MERGE WOULD CHANGE PARTICLE BEHAVIOR AT A BASIC LEVEL._

_Oh crap._ "Do you mean to tell me the crazy guy intends to destroy the universe?" _With this crystal in my chest?_

_HE IS DEMENTED. CATALYST 24 WAS WORKING ON HARNESSING ENERGY RELEASED FROM A DIMENSIONAL TAP. THE PHASE CRYSTAL IS ONE OF THE KEY COMPONENTS TO THE EXPERIMENT. _

_Just one?_

_WE HAVE FOUR MORE DAYS BEFORE EQUALIZED COMPRESSION IS BROKEN BY STAR ROTATION AND PLANETARY ORBITS. OPTIMUM COMPRESSION WILL PEAK IN 23.5 HOURS. _

_Unbelievable! _His moment of peace shattered with the Artificial Intelligence's apocalyptic revelation. _You know, you're just like an onion. You've got layers of lies stored up in this mission and they all stink! _

He ground his teeth as the perfect name for the lying AI popped in his mind. _Frank._

_You've lost all credibility with me…Frank, because you're a limited program stuck on the setting of 'screw John!' Doncha think the whole destroy-the-universe-thing is, I don't know, bigger than Integratia? If you'd leveled with me in the first place, I coulda got all Atlantis on board. As it is, you're stuck here with me doing a chicken dance with a crazy man without any backup!_

_INVOLVING YOUR FRIENDS WILL COMPROMISE YOU._

_Oh, like you weren't thinking of my welfare at the temple when you marked me for target practice and sent me off with a bomb!_ John had enough of the AI's games. It was time to go on the offensive and ambush the psychopath. He started looking for a good spot. "This is me, _not_ liking it!" he muttered aloud.

_CATALYST 24 WILL RECOGNIZE YOUR FRIENDS AS ANCIENT GENE CARRIERS, _the A-ware warned, _BECAUSE THE PUCHEK SAW THE GATE SHIP LEAVE THE TEMPLE. _

_What? So you set the Puchek on us, too?_

_I THINK ENABLER, CLASS A: 3870008 ACTIVATED THE PUCHEK WARNING BEFORE SHE SHUT DOWN COMMUNICATION. _

At least the Atlantis forensic team had partially confirmed that statement. _And you weren't activated until I got there?_ Sheppard guessed, nodding.

_YES._

_Is there a way to deactivate your program?_ _Because your program is about to get preempted._

_NO._

_That, I believe._ It was a disturbing idea, that a viral program was capable of hijacking a human and locking up their personality, but it was the sole purpose of the A-ware. _So if I kill this son of a bitch, I'm stuck with you._

_YES._

Well, he had some ideas about that, too.

_IF YOU ARE SET ON THIS COURSE, THE BLACK CLIFFS ARE LACED WITH NEUTRONIUM._

Sheppard's eyebrows shot up and his HUD instantly resolved with an analysis of neutronium, the raw source of the implant, with a property of high density.

His belly growled for food again as he considered the canyon walls and smiled grimly. After six grueling hours, things were starting to look up.

•

_Next chapter, _The High Ground_..._


	18. The High Ground

**The A-ware** by Fandomatic

•

**The High Ground**

He scouted out the immediate terrain with an eye for tactics and settled on an angled passage down a black canyon as his escape route. A narrow ledge of harder black stone ran up its side to a vantage point overlooking the central canyon. John looped the banue's lead rope over a rock pinnacle near the black canyon ledge and secured it with a slip knot. He carefully rose, hanging on to the outcrop and stepped up onto the ledge.

The ledge rose at a steep grade toward the mouth of the canyon and Sheppard scramble to the lip and settled in on his elbows. He clicked off the safety and bought up the infrared targeting array and aimed toward the curve in the central wall right at the spot he expected to see a homicidal crazy man's head appear. He'd like to see him stop an unexpected controlled burst to the head.

_MIGHT WORK._

_Shut up, Frank. I trust you about as far as I can throw you._ The AI still might be lying to him. His track record hadn't improved since yesterday.

What concerned him were the homicidal tendencies of the catalyst and it was an impressive arsenal of tendencies. If the catalyst had the heads up display, and there wasn't any reason to believe otherwise, along with an analytical mind, he'd do exactly what the AI warned him about. He'd go after Atlantis to get his crystal back. It was the flanking move that would end this game.

Lorne and his team should have arrived to search this world by now and standard operating procedures dictated their investigation would start with the nearest settlement and fan out. Their impending arrival already predetermined his course, a preemptive strike.

He flipped over and looked back along the ledge toward the turn that hid T-bone and his backpack, and his stomach knotted with hunger again.

_Damn leech._

•

Sheppard had plenty of time to prepare as he heard the distant thump of the banue pads echoing off of the canyon walls. He quickly shoved the MRE packets he'd consumed under the rim of a ledge and flipped into position behind the natural barrier. He rubbed the new skin on his palm against his pants and steadied the FN P90 submachine gun against the rock, taking careful aim. He figured he had one shot at this. After this attempt, the catalyst would know his tactics and his weapons.

The foot pads grew louder and filled the crevasse as the banue's head rounded the turn like a slow motion action sequence. A step later, the massive foot plodded into view and the grey body followed, sliding out behind the wall slowly as a rush of adrenalin pumped into his brain. And John adjusted his aim higher for the bull banue the catalyst rode. The banue's suspended weight transferred and shifted forward bringing the rider's head into the crosshairs.

John hesitated a second more. This man didn't sport the red beard he remembered in the download, but as the head turned, something passed through his crazed eyes and Sheppard recognized the balding man. His aim centered between the catalyst's eyes as the man lifted them up toward his position. He squeezed off a controlled burst and the staccato racket of the automatic fire destroyed the calm, mid-morning ambiance.

The green glow flared around the rider's face and John stared in disbelief as it faded. _He has a shield!_

The catalyst's face rotated to face the canyon wall, following his mad eyes in his scan for Sheppard.

_Okay, time to level the field_. John had seconds to act before the catalyst zeroed in on his position. He shifted the crosshairs to the wild bull's head and squeezed off a second volley.

As the beast crumpled forward in a slow motion collapse, his P90 jerked violently out of his hands, but John didn't wait to watch his weapon crack in two. Knowing what was headed his way, he scrambled and slid down the sloping ledge back into the twisting, narrow side canyon where T-bone waited with growing nervousness.

As he leaped onto the banue's shoulder, a boulder crashed into the canyon wall and ricocheted with a tremendous crash between the walls near the ledge he'd perched on. John yanked the slip knot loose from the yoke and tossed it away as his agitated ride bellowed in panic and took off down the escape route. An avalanche of falling rocks pelted into the pass in a search pattern, following them.

"Go! Go! Go!" John roared over the noise of the barrage. T-bone bolted as the scattered missiles fell far and wide of them. Since the deadly accurate boulders were missing from the bombardment, it confirmed the mineral had tilted the odds in his favor. The black rock had hidden the phase crystal's signature.

As they galloped through the twisting turns away from the rock storm, Sheppard glanced back. He'd been lucky. Without that advantage he had no doubt that he would've been plucked from the ledge like so much lint before he even saw the mad man.

On foot, the catalyst was unlikely to keep up with him, even accounting for T-bone's stubbornness. And if he kept to the black canyons, finding him was going to be harder.

For the next ten minutes he started to feel pretty good about his situation, until he heard the puddle jumper fly over.

The familiar hum brought his eyes skyward and Sheppard spotted the puddle jumper overhead immediately. Abruptly the pitch changed to an ominous whine as it banked to stargate east, wobbled toward stargate north, and then started loosing serious altitude.

Cursing, he reached down and hauled T-bone to a stop, and turned back to helplessly watch the jumper rocket down the length of the rift toward the northern horizon on a collision course with the ground. All his best-laid plans had just failed.

The catalyst had found a faster ride.

His internal HUD displayed the impending crash site before the craft dropped out of sight behind the horizon. Moves and countermoves flashed across the topographical map as he considered the new development. The catalyst's path remained the one constant as the mad man journeyed north and reached the Atlantis jumper in less than two hours. Then the catalyst was coming after him in his shiny new jet.

He could get nowhere useful in two hours. Not to the gate. Not to his jumper. Not even to the crash site since the catalyst was between them. Not on T-bone. The closest destination, his puddle jumper, remained thirty minutes behind the catalyst at T-bone-speed. _There's that 'backup' I needed._

His smile came slowly as he realized there should be two jumpers. SOP for jumper reconnaissance meant jumper teams traveled in packs. One of them was cloaked and the catalyst couldn't see it. All he needed to do was get a message to them.

How did Rodney put it—talk about instant messaging, instant translator, instant Google and user-friendly? If he had the enabler capacity, he should be able to 'dial in' to the jumper's HUD. The thought triggered the corridors but the door, '_JUMPER HUD COMMUNICATIONS_' wouldn't open.

_Frank, why won't the door open?_

_WHAT DOOR?_

_Don't play dumb with me! I need to warn my friends. They don't know what's coming!_

_IGNORANCE PROTECTS THEM FROM—_

_No, it helps! Look, the cloaked jumper can pick them up, pick me up and we can all get out of here._

_ESTABLISHING COMMUNICATIONS OPENS UP YOUR IMPLANT TO THE CATALYST. HIS BROADCAST WILL CAUSE INSANITY._

_You're designed to block that! Open the door._

_I AM BLOCKING IT._

_I can see that, Frank! Open the door!_

_IF CATALYST 24 KNOWS YOU HAVE AN IMPLANT, HE WILL KNOW I AM HERE AND YOU WON'T BE ABLE TO STOP HIM. I AM YOUR ONLY DEFENSE AGAINST A CATALYST WITH A SHIELD._

_Open the goddamn DOOR!_

Silence.

"Damn it! This in _not_ user-friendly, Rodney!" The hallways dissolved from his mind and he still faced the horizon where his friends were in peril. T-Bone edged sideways, agitated by his outburst and still nervous from the missiles.

Sheppard's jaw clenched and he turned the skittish banue with a series of kicks back to the western rift that led out of the canyon system and back onto the flats. He didn't have a hope of driving T-bone to his jumper in time, but he couldn't just give up.

_THIS IS SUICIDE._

_That occurred to me, but if you open the door, it won't be._

_YOU SHOULD HIDE IN THE CANYONS UNTIL INTEGRATION. YOU ARE TOO CLOSE TO ACHIEVING IT. CATALYST 24 WILL PURSUE YOU THERE._

_No, that's suicide. I already heard your plan to upload from my dying carcass. It's a _bad_ plan._

The buffer virus considered his resolve as John struggled to make the banue pivot back to stargate west. Animal and man swiveled around twice before the banue struck out in the wrong direction. Sheppard's frustration escalated and T-bone pivoted to a new wrong direction.

_YOU SHOULD RELEASE THE BANUE AND HIDE IN A NEUTRONIUM CAVE._

_Why? You got one handy?_ T-bone finally headed off in a plod toward the west. _Why am I even asking? Of course you do!_ His internal map had bloomed with a cavern network, cluttering up his neat vectors and estimates that now also spelled out his demise on his current zigzagging course. It reminded him of Rodney's flying lesson. _I could use a few banue lessons._

The corridors flew at him before he'd finished the thought, but the BANUE-LESSONS door sported an elevator door. The silver thread had already initiated the call and the elevator began its descent from the tenth story.

A pleasant woman's voice announced, _STAND BY FOR DOWNLOAD. _

Sheppard felt the familiar tingling 'hiccup' that coursed through his spine and traveled to his scalp as the doors slid open and dissolved. The goose bumps made his hair stand on end for a second and the feeling faded as he opened his eyes and stared at the back of T-bone's thick neck.

"T-bone, I'm going to apologize in advance for what I'm about to do. That was a helluva obstacle course you just did, and I gotta say you did great back there. And you don't deserve any of this—even though you are by far the meanest and orneriest beast I've ever ridden. But my team is in trouble and they need me." Sheppard drew his Para-Ordnance, thumbed off the safety and cocked it. "You see this, T-bone? I was thinking of you when I shot your buddy and I got no problem when it comes to killing banues, especially mean banues. But seeing that we're combat chums and all, I'm gonna give you fair warning. This forty-five round is going to be louder than your traditional noise maker, so you might want to start behaving in advance. And if you don't behave, well, let's just say Christmas dinner will come early this year."

John settled in behind the yoke with a firm grip and fired a round off into the air. Before the sound could reverberate off the walls of the canyon, T-bone's panicked lunge shot them forward into the western rift.

It was surprising how fast a banue can travel when it's properly motivated and T-bone had discovered motivation. By the time they reached the flats she started paying attention to the kicks and voice directing her to the left or right. She heeded his shouts because, otherwise, a terrible noise would startle her out of complacency. By the time John reached the beach with his jumper, T-bone had even tuned-in to the slightest shift of his weight.

As the Banue skidded to a halt right next to the cloaked puddle jumper, Sheppard released his pack and it thudded to the ground.

"T-bone, I'm sorry about this, but I'm taking you off the menu." She stood there, trembling with fatigue and panting while he efficiently released her harness and yoke straps from her shoulders and continued his pep talk from his perch. "I don't think you'd make a very tender steak after that ride. You're gonna have to shore up on calories." He threw his leg over the yoke and slid to the ground, pulling the gear off of her behind him.

"Believe me. I know what it's like having a parasite."

One tug released the harness from her nose and she half-heartedly tried to bite him when he scooped up his backpack and hurried toward the jumper hatch. "Enjoy retirement."

The jumper brightened with his presence and he slapped on the controls as he dumped the pack and sat down in the pilot's chair.

_CATALYST 24 SHOULD BE IN RANGE OF THE CRASH SITE IN FIVE MINUTES. THERE'S NOT ENOUGH TIME TO SAVE THEM. YOU SHOULD RETREAT THROUGH THE STARGATE._

John ignored the virus, triggered the hatch and lifted off the sand bank. The HUD resolved into a life-signs display, but Sheppard was already speeding toward the crash site before the hatch had even shut. The HUD showed the catalyst on approach from the south, within sight of the crash. Four life-signs were grouped around the downed jumper and the second jumper was off the grid.

He chafed at the minute it took to climb within targeting range and the next minute it took to get close enough for a surprise attack. As the drone bay deployed, the HUD showed two of the life signs fluttering.

"You son of a bitch!" _Here's a little something else to focus on!_ John decloaked the jumper, still too far out, and fired the first salvo of drones at his target.

•

_Next chapter, _Incoming_..._


	19. Incoming

**The A-ware** by Fandomatic

•

**Incoming**

Major Evan Lorne glanced in to see if McKay still worked on the control conduit panel in the back of the crashed jumper and quickly backed out of sight. He looked at his watch and muttered a few choice words about one incompetent scientist. Not only had McKay failed to open the obelisk on G1K-384—and he'd had all last night to work on it—he also failed to fix the puddle jumper since it had burrowed a furrow into the nomad's world at 1322 AST. His irritation had escalated when McKay snapped, "the magic eight ball says it should be able to fly," when obviously the craft wouldn't stir.

After the dead-end visit to the trader's world, Evan had ordered a forced rest on Atlantis while another team took over the search, but it didn't sit well with any of Sheppard's team. Despite the forced rest, their return to the tac room a half hour ago had heralded a return of McKay's flagging argument.

"I don't care about this tower. It's going to be the same story all over. It won't let me in. There's no reason I need to be there—"

"Other than to upload that program you've been working on," Evan cut in. "Oh, I forgot. You _haven't_ been working on it. You've been working on getting inside those towers!" He zipped up his vest with an annoyed yank.

"Look, that's a dead end that would take far too long to finish before Colonel Chaos wreaks havoc on the Pudeck star cluster. And despite your skepticism, I'm just as concerned about Colonel Sheppard as you are. So while you were resting, I was working on a brilliant plan to get our AWOL Air Force colonel back. And after some highly complicated testing and calibration, due to the foreign nature of the implant, I came up with a way to eradicate the implant entirely."

"Really." Lorne's eyes narrowed. "_Without_ the use of explosives?"

"Ha. Funny." Rodney opened a case on the bench next to him. "A proto-type anti-_implant_ gun, based loosely on O'Neal's design for an ARW, but much more sophis—"

"Gee, doc, it's an ARG." The SGC had been working on a proto-type anti-replicator gun and he recognized the awkward design. When the SGC read about the Pegasus replicators, They had shipped McKay an older proto-type weapon that no longer worked on Milky Way replicators since Replicators built up a resistance to the disruption wave. It looked suspiciously like O'Neal's anti-replicator weapon.

"Hmm. Nothing gets by you," Rodney smirked. "As I was saying, since the implant is composed of a foreign substance that would be introduced into the body if the bonds between the particles were broken, I needed to conduct some complicated tests with Dr. Beckett—"

"Get to the part where I care. Does it work?" Lorne picked up the ARG and hefted the heavy cylinder on the barrel with the left-handed handle and noted that it was just as graceless to aim as the reports described. The 20 cm cylinder slipped over his right hand and had hoses connecting the heavy mushroom cross at the tip, which gave it a pendulum action and aiming the contraption took muscle. And with the width of the mushroom tip, sights were out of the question.

"Of course it works. I spent all night making sure it worked while you slept! So you see, there's no reason for me to go with you because there's something bigger going on here than just an AWOL Air Force colonel. Returning to Pudock is our only viable option left that makes any sense—"

"Puchek!"

"Puchek, Puchek, why can't I remember that stupid name? I only took minimal readings before we left and they're not nearly enough. We have to go back. It's where Sheppard's going to be," he glanced at his watch, "in twenty-one hours." He Looked at Lorne expectantly.

"Yeah? Well, the one thing I figured out since I've been here is that Colonel Sheppard is not stupid!" Lorne glanced around at the other team members that were studiously ignoring them and listening in at the same time. He lowered his voice. "He's not going back to a planet with restless natives who are intent on killing him!"

"Unless he has a really good reason. And I won't know that reason until we go back there." Rodney McKay shrugged into his tactical vest as the major returned the ARG to the carrying case. "Look, these towers are building up to something and Puchek is the center. It's literally _written_ on the walls. And I don't think it's a coincidence that the energy doubles every thirty-eight minutes, which connects them in some way to the stargates that they're almost sitting on top of." McKay fumbled with the vest zipper. "We know Sheppard has an implant, it's only logical to conclude he's going to be at the ancient temple when this power array spikes. I need to get there before that, figure out what the array does, maybe turn it off before six planets explode."

Lorne picked up a P90 and clipped it on. "Doc, like Dr. Weir said, we're going to exhaust this _one_ option before we even consider that." He grabbed a radio and thrust it into a pocket. "Dr. McKay, you're with Captain Reed in Jumper Four. Teyla, you're with me."

Refreshed, he'd juggled the team deployment to place Dr. McKay in the second jumper, well away from himself. But fifteen minutes into today's mission he'd crashed and the cloaked jumper landed briefly to deploy Dr. Rodney McKay, astrophysicist and foremost expert on puddle jumper technology. And McKay immediately implied Lorne had done something to crash the ancient craft.

Major Lorne tried not to show his growing irritation to the two marines guarding the entrance of the half-buried craft and returned to the top of the furrow. The ridge line to the south blocked their view of the canyons they had flown over and the rest of this world seemed to be composed of tall grass and flatlands stretching on into the horizon on every side. Absolutely nothing was visible or moving on the flats. Not even a Pegasus rabbit.

His bored gaze rested on Isenberg and Norman for a moment as they climbed out of the trench and took up positions on the furrows. Isenberg nodded to him and moved off a few paces down the furrow.

Evan gritted his teeth. Even Isenberg knew to tread lightly around his normally easy-going CO. The high point of his day had come a few minutes ago when Ronon reported that Colonel Sheppard spent the night with the nomads. Teyla and the Satedan were pursuing the investigation while he was stuck, once again, guarding McKay, the royal PITA of Atlantis.

Just then, Evan fondly wished to find his CO so he wouldn't have to look at McKay another moment. In less than a day, his respect for his CO's tolerance had more than tripled.

He heard a soft thud from Isenberg's direction and his bored eyes caught the unexpected motion of a body tumbling into the trench from the far side. Instantly alert, his eyes scanned the grass for enemies. Norman's contorted form rolled to a stop next to Isenberg at the bottom of the trench. With backs arched in pain and fist clenched, they writhed in pain without a sound.

Nothing else moved. _Oh, crap._

"Doc! Something's wrong with Isenberg and Norman!" He slid back down the furrow to the jumper hatch and turned over Isenberg, who raked his chest and worked his mouth in a soundless scream. Blood dribbled from his nostrils and his fingers clutched Lorne's arm in a vise. Helplessly, he watched the marine's eyes turn red and grow frantic as he struggled for life.

McKay rushed out and stumbled to a shocked halt next to Norman. He fell into the dirt on his knees and held the marine's shoulders in horror. "What happened? What's wrong with them?"

The major ignored his question and cued his headset. "Lorne to Reed."

"_Reed here, sir."_

"Head back here _now_! I've got two men down in need of immediate transport!" Isenberg's grip slipped and his tortured eyes bulged. A gush of blood poured out of his mouth and nose. His body slumped and his chest pushed a final gurgle from his throat.

"_On our way, sir."_

"Hey, there they are," Rodney pointed up at the jumper far to the south. "That was fast. Help's…" Words failed the scientist as Norman coughed and blood spilled over his lips. His head rolled to the side and the blood pooled under his slack cheek.

Shocked, Lorne looked from McKay to the horizon in time to see six drones fired toward them. He grabbed McKay's arm and yelled, _"Move! Move! Move!"_ Evan pulled him up the bank away from the jumper. "Reed, what the _hell_ are you doing?!"

"_We just left the camp on foot, sir. ETA, five minutes to the jumper."_

McKay pointed at the craft. "Hey, that's got to be Sheppard! What's he shooting at us for!"

Lorne pulled McKay down the other side of the furrow and pushed him away from the jumper. He looked back in time to see two of the drones headed right toward the ancient craft as Sheppard's jumper plummeted from the sky. Suddenly six more bright lights launched from the falling craft and the jumper recovered its altitude and circled north. All twelve drones headed their way.

Lorne plunged into the tall prairie grass and hauled the scientist after him. He looked back over his shoulder and watched a crazy dance of drones swarming overhead like mad bees. It didn't make any sense and he slowed down to watch what amounted to be a great aerial acrobatics show. In confusion, the two men stared at drones that behaved like dive bombers. They seemed to have two targets, the crashed jumper and Sheppard's jumper.

"Lorne to Reed. We've got a rogue jumper firing drones over here. Stay cloaked and above the theater."

"_Yes, sir."_ Reed's voice chopped up over the headset. They were still running toward the jumper.

"What's he doing?" Rodney voiced Lorne's question.

"I don't know."

"He's going to _shoot_ himself!" McKay's jaw dropped as one of the drones shot upward toward Sheppard's six. It detonated prematurely and rocked his jumper. In succession the two incoming drones zeroing in on the crashed jumper exploded harmlessly overhead.

Lorne spotted two more that dropped low on the eastern horizon and raced around the perimeter of the drone battle, following the path of Sheppard's circling jumper. Two more flashed low on the southern horizon and rocketed in from the south. A few more arrowed west on a collision course with Sheppard's path. The rest of the drones spiraled overhead, seemingly out of control, diving and retreating uselessly. One of them angled toward the crash site and detonated in a concussive fireball before it reached the jumper.

Sheppard's ship circled in from stargate north chased by the two drones and the sky overhead cleared of activity as the remaining two drones rocketed toward the jumper.

Suddenly one concussive explosion after another shook the ground as six drones, paired on three collision courses with the jumper, detonated closer and closer to it. The sixth drone didn't hit the jumper. Sheppard's craft jerked to the left into its path and the drone detonated over the left drive pod. And then the ground shook with real tremors as the two incoming missiles from the south detonated on the southern ridge throwing up a blast wave of dirt and debris toward the spectators.

Lorne automatically knocked McKay to the ground and covered him as dirt and rock ejected up from the ridge in a billowing cloud of blinding debris. But the ridge was too far away to reach them with the blast. The smoke and particles rolled off the ridge and dissipated slowly into the atmosphere.

"What just happened?" Rodney's muffled voice rose from below.

Evan raised his head to watch his CO's puddle jumper sputter and spew smoke as the remaining engine pod barely kept it aloft on a southern course toward the stargate.

Lorne rolled off McKay and spoke into his headset as he climbed to his feet. "Reed, change of plans. Colonel Sheppard's got engine trouble, on a heading to the stargate. He's going down and needs assistance."

"_Yes, sir."_ Reed's voice didn't hesitate. He could count life signs just as well as Lorne. _"We just got airborne. I got him on HUD. ETA to the stargate…six minutes. Uh, sir, I got a life sign south of you, but it's not moving."_

"Copy that." Lorne stared briefly at the southern ridge that still smoked, turned a grim face to McKay and reached down to pull him to his feet as the dust cloud settled over them obscuring the sky. "Doc, I don't know what just happened, but you got a jumper to fix, ASAP."

Rodney nodded and they started back to the wreck.

•

_Next chapter, _Integration...


	20. Integration

**The A-ware** by Fandomatic

•

**Integration**

Sheppard's jumper arrowed straight toward the stargate as he frantically worked at slowing his descent. Sparks frizzed from the control panel and half his systems were dead. With communications out, guidance out, cloaking out, engines destined for imminent failure, and the HUD fried, about the only thing he had left were the inertial dampeners and weapons. And he was fresh out of drones.

The jumper hit the ground, skidded sideways, and rolled over like a tin can about six times before it crumpled around the obelisk.

John looked out at a sideways world through a wide open window that had popped out and lay completely intact ten feet from the jumper. He blinked and the gravity field failed. Sheppard fell out of the pilot's chair toward the co-pilot's wall, bounced off the DHD console and lost control of his limbs seconds before his dark, spiky hair turned a radiant silver. When the implant launched its core program, John collapsed on the wall in a crumpled, silver heap.

For John Sheppard, integration happened at 1529 Atlantis Standard Time after his view of the world turned metaphorically sideways and then gravity literally dropped him into the wall.

The A-ware maintained its autonomy during the merge and observed the event with relief. The Sheppard personality had been difficult. Sheppard's integration came a full three hours before the anticipated moment which could only be attributed to his prolonged use of the implant under stress.

From John's perspective, the process of integration felt like he'd qualified for a Section Eight. His thoughts lost all boundaries as the 'catalyst core' opened the doors of the implant. Traveling at top neuron speeds, he bounced around the implant absorbing the offered up menu which catapulted him on to the next. Unable to slow the process, the gorge only ended when he completed the survey of new territory, understood his expanded boundaries, and had accepted the core as part of himself.

The root program, known as the catalyst core, contained the motivators for the linked masses, as provided by the catalysts on Integratia. Sheppard's duplicate implant requested an updated core along with open connections to the collective. The AI blocked the connection since the closest catalyst was insane and imprinted its emergency directive onto the implant core.

Because the connection to the collective was blocked, a more complete integration could not occur and the Sheppard personality remained intact but imprinted with the AI's agenda. With the merge complete, the A-ware recognized its function as secondary and allowed the far more experienced tactician to take the point. With Sheppard functioning as the virus, it reverted to its function as a buffer for the phase crystal.

The silver hair receded and the Integratian stirred against the wall.

John groaned as he pulled himself to his feet and took a last look at the interior of the wreck. He absently noted that Atlantis would need a new Jumper One. This one had served him well before the final hit he'd taken while his drones blasted a new crater where the catalyst stood. Unfortunately, the HUD had lasted just long enough to show a life sign still inside the crater. Even now, the catalyst would be on approach to hijack the helpless jumper.

He couldn't help the Lanteans other than to focus the catalyst on pursuit. The drone's actions had fingered more victims for the catalyst and left him grounded and pitted against a puddle jumper. Without the proximity of the gate, the catalyst would have won, he'd be dead, and the phase crystal would be lost to Integratia.

While he was torn to continue hunting Catalyst 24, he was also duty-bound to win, and reason won the brief inner struggle. He frowned at Frank's lack of judgment. They'd almost lost everything and he needed to get moving if he was going to use the buffer as it was intended. He found it annoying that the lying Frank actually turned out to be his final solution and had hidden his purpose from him.

_BUT WE CAN SET THE TRAP FOR CATALYST 24 NOW,_ the AI buffer protested as Sheppard automatically checked his forty-five sidearm.

He snarled to his inner beast with the obvious, "Yeah, well I want to _live_." Retrieving the last loaded magazine from his pack, he stuck it in his tac pocket and ignored his injuries as he climbed out the front window and left the backpack behind.

Frank was still annoying. Almost as annoying as the drone's suicide run. He didn't know who he was madder with. It was too bad the buffer had not lied about putting the genie back in the bottle. He'd manipulated and twisted the truth about almost everything else.

He grabbed his leg in pain as he hit the ground. Inhaling sharply, he applied pressure to his sliced thigh and the wound stopped bleeding. Gritting his teeth, he limped toward the DHD and dialed. His forearm dripped blood on the symbols from his ripped sleeve and abruptly stopped when he noticed. Despite the healing powers of the implant and judging by the pain radiating from his leg, he needed some serious rest. Rest he didn't think he'd get for another ten minutes.

With the viral core of Frank merged with Sheppard, the buffer was finally free to focus all its attention on harnessing the phase crystal and protecting its host from its unique properties. Inside, Frank's thoughts thrilled with the onset of power. Delighted with the promise of exploration, the AI cradled the phase crystal carefully for its final journey through the stargate. Once its resonance became more agitated, the A-ware buffer was going to get really busy.

The stargate engaged and the colonel's dark, messy hair and matching BDUs lurched toward the wormhole that would complete the phase crystal's tune up.

That was the winning ticket.

•

Lorne's uneasiness grew as he sent Rodney back into the jumper to fix it. The two bodies of his dead Marine's only emphasized the feeling. He understood nothing about the battle that Colonel Sheppard had waged against himself and he understood less about the deaths of Isenberg and Norman. He did understand that whatever had hit the fan would not be evenly distributed. Something bad was going down and the longer they stayed the more likely they would become targets.

Teyla's report from Jumper Four that Sheppard had gone through the stargate brought him back to their mission. He joined Rodney in the rear compartment to see if he'd made progress in the last two minutes. "Did you get a gate address?" he asked Teyla.

"_Yes, Major. He went to the trader's planet. We are on our way back to you now."_

"Copy—" Lorne's word's died in his throat as his neck compressed against his windpipe.

Confused, he staggered and stumbled backward in surprise at the appearance of an odd looking man on the ramp of the jumper. Dressed in a Wraith's overcoat, he had a long black leather coat with a dozen closures hanging loose down the front because his girth was too wide for the coat. Underneath, he wore a dirty white tunic with baggy leggings and dusty leather boots. Red dirt stains covered his clothing, but the thing that held his attention was his pure silver hair swaying like prehensile seaweed in a current. His hand rose like a claw with silver polish coating his nails and a smile twisted his lips into a sneer.

Lorne choked, clutching his neck and finally met the man's eyes. The metallic silver eyes had an unfocused look and seemed to stare right through him.

He heard McKay turn around with a startled "Hey!" and those eyes snapped into focus on the doctor. McKay squeaked in surprise as his body lifted from the deck, suspended in mid-air. Still choking, Lorne raised his P90. The assault weapon jerked from his grip and rotated to point at his head. Then the slide loaded a SS190 ball round into the chamber all by itself.

McKay whimpered and Evan started turning blue and collapsed against the bench. Both of their nine millimeters joined the floating arsenal that covered them.

"_Major Lorne, is everything all right?"_ Teyla's voice asked over his headset.

Instead of answering, Lorne sucked in a tortured breath of air and gasped, coughing against the bench, as his opponent released his throat. He took in the improbable fact that their own weapons covered them along with Dr. McKay's suspended position and came to a conclusion that he didn't like one bit. As the blood returned to his cheeks, Lorne waited for the silver-haired man to release McKay.

Their captor raised his hands and closed his eyes for a moment. His wild eyes snapped suddenly to Lorne and darted to McKay hanging over his head. His silver eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Drones!" His contempt twisted his freckled features as his sonorous voice filled the rear cavity. "No matter. Dan Norman revealed your crimes." He approached and extended his silver-nailed hand toward Lorne who couldn't back away. He held his palm close to Lorne's temple and did the same to McKay's. His nostril's flared and he continued his silent examination of his two new subjects. Dissatisfied with what he found, he stepped back and snarled at them. "You have defied me. You must seek absolution or my wrath will choke your defiance from your throats!"

"_Major Lorne, Plea—" _Teyla's voice cut off abruptly

"_That_ is quite enough." The wild eyes lost focus. "Seek absolution and I may be merciful. Interfere with me and I shall gut these men like helpless meat."

Lorne heard the captor's voice come through his earpiece. He exchanged a look with McKay above him. McKay had heard it too. He swallowed and wondered what kind of twisted alien humanoid had captured them.

"_Who is this?"_ Teyla asked calmly.

"I am your master's master," the man spat. "You are no better than thieves that cower in the daylight. Judgment comes to the defiler and his helpers!

"_Do you have a name?"_

"I am the catalyst, the core, the center, the motivator and the reason."

"_Is Major Lorne and Dr. McKay all right?"_

"Why, they are in perfect health. I want nothing with them." He giggled and his deep voice disappeared. "They are nothing but a pair of stinking fish that I will use against you." Casually, he reached out with his mind and clutched McKay's neck and squeezed. "Stand aside or I will gut this pair of fish like Dan Norman and Grant Isenberg. Tell her, Evan Lorne."

Lorne looked at McKay floating and choking above him and quickly complied. "This is Lorne. Jumper Four, stay cloaked and back off." McKay's eyes were wide with terror.

"_Yes, Major. Are you—?"_

"Enough." With a flick of his fingers, Teyla's voice died in his ear. Another dismissive wave and McKay gasped for air as the hijacker ducked under his floating body and entered the forward compartment. Their weapons rotated to cover the Lanteans and floated after him in his wake.

McKay thumped into the floor when the man released him from his tenuous position. He rubbed his neck, coughing.

Lorne quietly shook his shoulder to get his attention and swirled a finger around his temple.

McKay rolled his eyes.

Lorne pointed at the rear hatch and questioned the scientist with his eyebrows.

McKay shook his head, still choking and red-faced, and gestured frantically at his throat.

Lorne gritted his teeth and waited for McKay to catch his breath as he watched the hijacker sit down at the jumper controls. His jaw dropped as he witnessed the systems come back to life with a hum and the ramp started to rise. Above them, the rear control conduits withdrew into its bay and the jumper purred to life. _Oh, crap!_

Startled, McKay's head came up. "The magic eight ball says we're so screwed," he moaned as the puddle jumper broke free of the furrow and headed south, toward the stargate.

•

_Next chapter, _Tactics...


	21. Tactics

**The A-ware** by Fandomatic

•

**Tactics**

When integrated Sheppard arrived on G1K-384, the phase crystal's resonance from the journey reached top capacity. But as Sheppard's lunge carried him out of the event horizon, his new circumstances overwhelmed his senses as he tried to adjust to the weakness permeating his legs.

He thought he'd been prepared for it. Nothing could have prepared him for what he was experiencing. The phase crystal had expanded his existence into a dimension composed of Jell-O. It reminded him of seeing Ronon through the temple wall when the phase crystal had first touched him as a drone.

Everywhere he looked his world was composed of colorless gelatin. The layered view was extraordinarily beautiful and full of light. He could see right through every surface since everything glowed with its own back light. People moving around the square looked like jellyfish outlines that emerged from the light as they drifted near. The layers of faint bones and metal buckles, slightly denser in material and less bright, sharpened with proximity. The luminous world of insubstantial occupants stretched into every direction and merged together in a white pulsing mass with distance.

It reminded him of a backlit jellyfish in an aquarium.

He stumbled between the gate and another large obelisk in the middle of a town square, still clinging to his moribund existence. Ringed around the gate, the curious observers drifted toward the engaged stargate in expectation. When a man on a collision course walked right through his seemingly solid body toward another couple, he jerked out of his stupor and dragged himself toward the tower, the only other solid object around.

_Frank. I see it. _

The AI's control flagged as the revved up crystal drained his energy. He could feel his solid state slipping further toward the insubstantial as he limped to the tower base.

Putting aside his concern with his weakening incorporeal state, he examined the power emanating from the obelisk that stood before the gate. The obelisk represented a massive storehouse of energy which formed a colorful moving barrier around an opaque core. The core and he occupied the same solid dimension. In his current state, he passed through the outer wall of the obelisk, with its building energy, and into the interior. Inside, he could touch the narrow, inner core of the tower. He sensed the controls that could power it down as he breathed in the energy to recharge the implant.

It only took moments to absorb enough power, and Sheppard stepped out of the tower casing with more strength coursing through his stabilized body.

He regretted leaving the obelisk functioning, but it would reveal his control of the phase crystal. Control of the crystal could only mean he controlled the A-ware. To save Integratia, he had to hide the A-ware and risk the universe.

His illogic went unnoticed.

His regret lingered with him as he limped back to the staging ground before the event horizon. _There's only a minute left on the puddle, Frank, so let's get this feint over with._

The AI shifted the crystal into phase as the gate shut down with a rasp. As Sheppard appeared to the crowd surrounding the gate, they hardly blinked at his sudden appearance. People tended to see what they expected.

"Hail, friend," a man called from the ring of people who started to scatter. "Do you bring more trade for our city?"

"Not today," Sheppard limped over to the DHD and dialed Puchek. The man followed him with curious eyes as the stargate engaged. John limped back to the event horizon and phased back out of dimension short of it. If his exit was remarkably odd for a gate traveler, the villagers didn't notice.

Once again invisible to the traders, he returned to the tower and watched the gate shut down while the villagers resumed their lives. They hadn't noticed his ruse and he was counting on it to mislead the catalyst. John stepped back through the tower casing and leaned back against the core to wait for the jumper to follow him.

_THIRTY-EIGHT MINUTES,_ the AI started to warn.

_Between power blooms, I know,_ John finished. _I'll take my chances that you can handle it._

He didn't have long to wait. The jumper was preceded by gate activation a few short minutes after he settled into his roost. The puddle jumper halted in the center of the town square between the gate and the tower. As the back hatch lowered, the curious townsmen gathered around the ramp to see who had arrived.

Catalyst 24, dressed in his black overcoat covering a dirty tunic that reminded Sheppard of hospital scrubs, raised his hands to the people of the trader's world. His shinny bald plate sprouted the silver neutronium hair of the implant and all activity around him ceased as the catalyst conducted a mental search for him.

Integrated John knew Catalyst 24 couldn't sense him next to the core, but he found himself holding his breath. The millions dead on Integratia weighed heavily on his conscious. How much more would the death of an entire civilization weigh on him if the catalyst killed him and recovered the phase crystal without the viral program? Eighty-three was a paltry sum. Catalyst 24 had kinetic abilities. He didn't need to touch him.

From the murderous look on the catalyst's face he wanted to touch him, but in a really _bad_ way. His mouth had twisted into an angry snarl and his upraised hands started quaking as the silver hair retreated back into the bald head. He roared his frustration and whipped around to retreat back into the jumper.

Sheppard noticed movement in the rear compartment and saw a pair of standard issue combat boots shift sideways to make way for the catalyst. Too many layers were between him and the two men sitting quietly on the benches to see who they were, but there was no mistaking those broad rounded shoulders or the uniform profile.

_He's got Rodney! _Sheppard took a step toward the jumper before he caught himself. The rage that filled his heart turned his hands into fists.

_CAN WE HUNT CATALYST 24 NOW?_ A faint echo of the dormant viral program stirred eagerly inside the buffer.

_Oh, yes._ Sheppard watched the hatch close on his friend and the jumper lifted off smoothly as the gate engaged. The craft departed on its way to Puchek. The feint had worked.

As peace returned to the plaza outside the obelisk, fear gripped Sheppard's soul. The catalyst wasn't exactly known for his level-headed behavior or humility. Neither was Rodney. Putting the two together had to be the universe's worst recipe for disaster.

_What does he want with Rodney?_ But he already knew. He had fingered them when he'd leapt to their defense. The catalyst would use them to get to him.

Sheppard's grim smile didn't reach his eyes. _And we're gonna let him._

•

The abandoned scar with the two bodies of Isenberg and Norman spoke volumes to Teyla. She glanced at Ronon and recognized his unease as her own. Their pain had frozen their faces in grimaces that unsettled on a personal level. To die in such a way without battle or honor and in agony was abhorrent to them. There had been no sign of Major Lorne's jumper and she feared he and Rodney faced the same fate as these unfortunate marines before her.

"What happened here?" Ronon closed Norman's red eyes.

Reed shook his head. "We missed the all the action. A rogue jumper—Sheppard's. Now hostages. Nothin' makes sense." He looked away from Isenberg.

"Perhaps, but we have facts," Teyla spoke firmly. "We know two marines are dead and that _someone_ killed them and took Major Lorne and Dr. McKay hostage in Jumper Two."

Coughlin nodded. "He went after Colonel Sheppard."

"He sounded crazy," Reed grunted.

Teyla's brow arched. "He believes we are working together."

"Doesn't matter." Ronon rose, drew his gun and checked the power capsule. "We go after 'em."

Teyla frowned. She could see that Ronon's suggestion resonated with Reed and Coughlin. "We also know that Sheppard went to the trader's planet." She paused as Ronon holstered his weapon. "If Colonel Sheppard knows Rodney and Major Lorne were taken hostage, he will help us fight this adversary."

Ronon shrugged. "We're loosing time debating this."

"We need more information before we mount a rescue, Ronon. Once we locate the colonel, I think we will have our answers. He is somehow central to this skirmish."

Reed knelt by Isenberg's body. "We also need to return our men to Atlantis."

Teyla touched his shoulder in sympathy. The seasoned officer had seen many of their reinforcements die in the battle over Atlantis. "And Atlantis needs an update. There is time to do both if we part ways at the gate."

•

Lorne watched the catalyst stop at the bottom of the jumper ramp and raise his hands to address the trader's plaza. As his silver hair appeared, the major quietly turned to McKay and hissed quietly. "He's nuts. Keep your head down and don't talk if you want to stay alive."

"You think!" McKay tried to stifle a cough.

"I mean it, Doc. No talking."

"Not like I can." McKay carefully felt his throat and darted a fearful look toward the hatch. "He's wearing a shield. That green thing under the coat, looks like a beetle, it's an ancient personal shield. I had one once. Almost killed me."

"What's he doing with a shield?"

"Who knows? The point is, our weapons won't work against him and whatever he's using to levitate things must be hidden on him too. I think it must be an implant. That hair looks too much like the implant filaments." McKay swallowed convulsively. "Our only chance—well, your only chance—is when he turns it off to eat or drink. That is, the shield."

Evan glanced warily out at the back of the hijacker who was shaking with anger. "Well, he doesn't look like he's ordering pizza." Lorne pulled McKay back into the seat and remained as still as possible while the bald, enraged man stormed past into the jumper cockpit. They watched him bring up the controls, raise the back ramp and dial Puchek.

The Puchek reception was more violent, hot and dark.

Lorne heard the thuds of spears and arrows hit the sides briefly as the craft flew out of the stargate staging area and into the night sky. The barrage suddenly stopped and the jumper landed near the DHD.

Once again, the two hostages witnessed their captor power down the puddle jumper with an unusual abruptness. The jumper interior lights winked out with a final whine and the hijacker left them in the dark as he stood outside the ramp with his silver hair and his arms wide. As the oppressive heat boiled into the back of the jumper, it brought the stench of fiery death to Evan's nostrils. The oily smoke brought bile to his throat and he swallowed back a retch. McKay covered his nose and concentrated on keeping his lunch down as Lorne's eyes adjusted slowly to the dim moonlight and he zeroed in on the dead natives fallen around the DHD console. He pointed them out quietly to McKay.

That didn't help McKay, who turned white as a sheet and swallowed compulsively. "H-he killed them!"

Lorne elbowed McKay hard. The crazy man turned and stomped up the ramp with his silver hair flowing around his sweating face. "No talking. Keep your head down," he murmured before he reached them and made sure Rodney ducked his head.

The hijacker halted in front of Lorne with a distant, unfocused look on his face. Gradually the interior lights of the jumper lit his furious silver eyes and disturbing hair. Lorne continued to stare at him warily and checked that McKay examined his boots.

"Where is he?" he finally snarled. "Where is the gifted one, the one called…Sheppard?"

Lorne shook his head. "I don't know."

The catalyst prodded McKay. "Where is he?"

"I-I don't know. I mean, we've been looking for him." McKay raised his head and caught Lorne's tight-lipped expression. He gulped and clamped his mouth shut. Before he could remember to duck his head, the catalyst was choking him again.

"Where is he?" he asked Lorne.

Lorne looked between the man's murderous expression and McKay's bulging eyes and quickly spoke up. "He's telling the truth. All we know is that he went to the trader's planet after he attacked…" A few things were starting to add up about Sheppard's wild drone acrobatics and this silver psycho with a shield.

McKay gasped for breath as the madman released him and lost focus on them again. His maniac smile revealed a new purpose and the luminous eyes focused on Lorne once again. "Sheppard risked his life to save you. Could he really be so foolish…or so _independent_?"

Evan guessed he really didn't want him to answer that and he warily kept his council. But when the jumper DHD started dialing by itself, Lorne inched forward to see the address. The blow to his head came out of nowhere and knocked him across the floor and into the bulkhead jam. He stayed down where he fell and held his cheek with the bruise developing under the welt. The ringing in his head was nothing to the knot in his stomach. The beginnings of the address had looked too familiar.

He risked a glance at McKay and met two worried blue eyes. With the catalyst's back to him in the forward compartment, he mouthed 'Teyla,' which made McKay's eyes widen.

"You have defied me again," the catalyst's voice echoed over their headsets. "Judgment comes to conspirators and thieves."

Teyla's voice broke in, _"We offered no interference."_

"You hide the offender." The catalyst's hair shimmered in the low lights. "How else could he disappear so completely?"

"_Who is the offender?"_

"John Sheppard! Where is he?!"

"_If I knew, I would not tell you,"_ Teyla spoke reasonably.

"You would risk my wrath on your teammates?" The hijacker returned just as reasonably.

"_They still live? Let me talk to them."_

"You may speak," the hijacker indicated McKay.

McKay cleared his throat and rasped. "Teyla, he's got a personal shield!"

"_Rodney! Are you all right? Is Major Lorne all right?"_

"Yeah, we're okay—" McKay's body slammed back against the jumper wall and his voice failed.

"Their health will be forfeit," the catalyst interrupted. "They are nothing but a pair of insects that I will trade for your…_John Sheppard_." He released Rodney and continued his gloating as he paced. "He betrayed his love for these insects when he defied me. But I will accept his repentance. He must bring his offering to the Puchek temple in seventeen hours or I will rend their carcasses in two as they breathe."

The catalyst turned his back to cut the connection and McKay tapped his watch, mouthing something Lorne interpreted as 'Amen.' McKay rolled his eyes and tried again. His fingers uncurled in a starburst and he mouthed, 'boom.' Then he pointed outside the closing hatch at the stargate.

Evan Lorne glanced at their crazy captor who sat in the pilot's seat and powered up the jumper. He nodded to McKay and shifted into a sitting position on the floor. He tapped his watch and flashed seventeen fingers at Rodney.

McKay shook his head and flashed back eighteen fingers.

Major Lorne grimaced and carefully moved up onto the bench across from McKay and wiped the blood seeping from his bruised cheek. The doctor had been right all along. The temple was central to events. Sheppard was going to be at the Puchek temple when the power array spiked in eighteen hours. Lorne expected to see an I-told-you-so accusation in McKay's face, but his blue eyes just looked extremely worried.

•

_Next chapter, _The Search...


	22. The Search

_A/N: I realize you're reading other stories and may have lost the thread of this plot--it's complicated. So here's my primer of minders that should jog your memory--without having to skip back and skim.  
_

**_Recap _**

_The Puchek ancient outpost is set to destroy the universe--but no one knows this but Sheppard.  
_

_In a field of death, they find a sole survivor who infects Sheppard with an implant.__ Under its influence, he steals the outpost's crystal. The A-ware wipes his memory of the implant.  
_

_On Atlantis, the implant has to recharge from the first trip through the gate with the crystal. Realizing it is about to be discovered, the implant flees Atlantis and uses the crystal as bait to catch the criminal set on activating the outpost. _

_Everyone is now after our flyboy. Big chase scenes.  
_

_After the implant merges with Sheppard, he realizes the crystal is the winning ticket in this fight to save his new buddies, the Integrations. The A-ware is designed to control it. More about that in another few chapters.  
_

_He takes the phase crystal through the gate on its final tune up. Once on the other side, __a feint with his new powers tricks the mind-reading catalyst into thinking he gated out. __While hidden in an expanded dimension, he discovers the catalyst has taken his friends to swap for the crystal. And you rightly suspect that he is not himself anymore. _

_Meanwhile...  
_

•

**The A-ware** by Fandomatic

•

**The Search**

Teyla and Ronon watched Jumper Four depart for Atlantis with few words passing between them. Death was not uncommon with Pegasus residents and they shared the common bond that brought them together as family easily. She had learned that the Lanteans did not accept such fate so simply. Each death was counted many times, examined and turned over like an unfamiliar event, then weighed and assessed by others not involved until the dead were likely to rise for lack of peace.

To question was still foreign.

This obsession with Death made these galactic explorers fascinating to her. Yes, they were warriors, but their weapons and methods divided them from their enemies, and distanced them from the death they served up with technology. They were strangers to Death in more than one sense, and she found this even stranger because they were warriors with expectations of long lives and a peaceful end. And when that occupation brought death, _that_ was a loss taken personally as if Death had cheated.

She had come to realize that they fought Death with the selfishness of a child unwilling to share. When they saved her and her people from the Wraith, they were simply waging their war against Death and the Wraith just got in the way.

It was a refreshing perspective for a former food source.

Norman and Isenberg's deaths reaffirmed her observations. These deaths were senseless and she found herself in the peculiar position of questioning like a true Lantean instead of accepting.

She knew Ronon saw it. From the beginning, he'd watched the effort expended to save Aiden Ford. He'd counted them as family, seeing their willingness to fight Death to the end, like a Satedan.

But perhaps they were just slow learners. The Pegasus Galaxy, a harsh taskmaster, taught that survival depended on accepting one's fate as cattle for the Wraith. So Death became a familiar companion that took those she cherished most and passed her by, and technology was a thing to be shunned because it brought total destruction.

John would describe it as 'zero tolerance.' Having lived it, she could not be so cavalier.

Ronon broke the heavy silence and cleared his throat once the gate had shut down. "It's time to go."

Teyla nodded and dialed the trader's world.

"We'll find him, Teyla." Ronon drew his weapon as the wormhole engaged. "He's still on our side. He left the gate open long enough to see where he went. We'll find him and then we'll go get 'em all back."

Teyla Emmagan, leader of the Athosian people, lifted her chin. She might be a slow learner, but it was her turn to cheat death.

•

"He had silver hair."

"Huh?" Ronon's grunt echoed her confusion. Manfer, the trader that greeted them at the gate had earned their friendship during their last visit as Rodney poured over every surface inch of the obelisk. His account of Sheppard's brief visit was disappointing, but his story of the catalyst had been literally hair-raising.

"He was completely bald when he came out of the ship. He raised his arms and grew four months of silver hair," he repeated. "The other man in uniform as you described with dark, messy hair already left through the gate."

"Silver?" Teyla looked around the town square with skepticism. There were scattered citizens meeting for trade around the steps of the giant obelisk at its center. She pushed her hair out of her face and crossed her arms. The square had a biting wind blowing across it and she wished for her coat. At least her backpack warmed her back.

"I know. It's bizarre, but it looked like polished silver."

Ronon's eyes narrowed and slid away. "That's impossible."

"Certainly." Manfer didn't seem concerned with the Satedan's lack of belief. "Twenty observers beheld the impossible."

Teyla inserted a diplomatic prompt, "And this ship followed our man to Puchek?"

"I witnessed the symbols on the pedestal myself."

"There was just the one? Did you see anyone else in the ship?" Ronan fingered his gun, wondering how many of them they were up against.

"No, but Kev Salow said there were others inside."

An unqualified 'others' concerned Teyla. "Could you introduce us to some of these witnesses?"

The trader grinned, confident that his story would hold true for these warriors. They had been generous on their last visit and he'd actually spoken to the man they searched for. It looked like another profitable morning. "Of course. His shop is across the way. Follow me." The trader in his brown overcoat turned to guide them across the plaza and Ronon fell into step with Teyla.

Teyla let the trader gain on them and lowered her voice. "Have you ever heard of such a thing?"

Ronon hesitated. "There are fables about the mark of silver."

Teyla gave Dex her full attention. "I have not heard of them."

"Satedan fables," Ronon elaborated, "or what I thought were fables. You know, 'marked for wisdom with the silver hair, who hide the mark…'" He frowned. "It probably gets them killed."

"What's a mystic?"

"Not good." Ronon's mouth tightened. "There's a saying—madness minds a mystic."

When Ronon pronounced something as "not good," it was best to take him seriously. And the unusual report of their hijacker had spooked him. Always suspicious, his eyes darted apprehensively over the stone buildings lining the square.

"Madness?" the Athosian repeated. "Our enemy believes he is 'the center and reason.' Such statements are beyond egotistical. He fits your description."

Ronon shrugged. "Most stories talk about chaos and death following the mystics." He wavered and admitted, "Just before the siege of Sateda, we had over twenty sightings." He glanced down at her. "I thought they were fame fishing. Now I'm wondering if our mass murderer is also a mystic."

Her eyebrow arched. "You think it might be the implant?"

"I think the profile fits."

What he didn't say concerned her. Would John's implant be the harbinger of madness? Rodney would have known and they needed his expertise. Ironically, without him she had even less hope of recruiting Sheppard and freeing him of his implant, and, in turn, less hope of saving their teammates.

As they entered the establishment, she wondered if they should try to rescue Dr. McKay first. He always had the answers.

The shop turned out to be a bread making business and Teyla welcomed the warmth and smell of the ovens that radiated into the store front. The large man working dough in the back stopped to grab a towel and came to greet them.

"Manfer." He wiped his hands. "You've brought the strangers. Welcome. I've got some finer loaves in the back, straight from the oven—"

"They're not here for bread," Manfer interrupted. "They want to know about the ship that landed in the square."

"Oh."

Teyla smiled and stepped forward. "I am Teyla Emmagan and this is Ronon Dex. We were here yesterday."

"Kev Salow. I've met some of your group."

"Manfer said you saw men inside of the ship this morning. We would very much like to hear about them."

The baker looked at Manfer and frowned before he started talking. "One of them was Dr. McKay. He came to my shop many times yesterday. I didn't recognize the other man, but he was dressed like you." He pointed at Teyla.

"Anybody else inside?" Ronon asked.

Kev Salow shook his head. "No. The man you're looking for left through the ring before the ship came. I saw him. Dark hair. In a uniform. There's no way the porter's wife could've seen him crossing the front street. She probably saw one of your men."

The revelation slowly sank in and Teyla shook her head. "There are no others with us." Teyla gave Ronon a puzzled look. "When did she say she saw him?"

"On her way here. She just left with her daily order."

•

_Next chapter,_ Alliances...


	23. Alliances

**The A-ware** by Fandomatic

•

**Alliances**

Major Evan Lorne's impression of the Puchek temple was surprisingly close to McKay's vision of filleting tips. It was squat, ugly, out of proportion and just wrong for an ancient building. Even the interior felt contrived and utilitarian, aesthetics the ancients avoided in all of their designs. The steeples that jutted out from the walls, floor and ceiling gave him a sense of utter wrongness, almost vertigo, as he gawked at the massive gravity-defying display. And under the sideways obelisks, a man, who muttered constantly, worked over an ancient console with silver hair that was possibly wilder than his commander's.

Lorne watched their hijacker with caution. Although free of bindings, he and McKay were completely at the man's mercy. Their captor had brought them at gunpoint inside the Puchek temple and shoved them into a corner. His P90 lay on the console across the room where the hijacker worked.

Dr. McKay sat with his back against the console across from him and squirmed out of his backpack carrying his computer tablet, but he was careful to do it when their captor had his back to them working on a display screen. The astrophysicist eased out his tablet, scooted it under his legs to hide it, and turned it on.

"Hey, that's not a bad idea," Lorne whispered feeling the pockets of his tac vest. "What else you got in there? Any C4?"

"Do I look like I carry explosives?" McKay continued to discreetly punch keys.

"I mean, take inventory. See what we have to take this guy out."

"Well, C4's not going to work against his shield, but in here it might just kill us if you get suicidal," Rodney hissed.

"He didn't search us. I've got a knife, a brick of C4, detonator, a flash bang, glow sticks, extra clip and magazine, communication gear, first-aid kit, and a couple of power bars and chocolate. Maybe we could radio for help."

"Radio won't penetrate the walls."

"_McKay_. What do you have?"

"I have _this_," McKay stabbed at the computer tablet and quickly froze as the hijacker walked across the room muttering to himself with his silver hair standing on end. He waited until their captor had returned to the other side of the room. The man had been talking to himself, non-stop, since they'd entered the ancient lab. "And a few FREDs."

"What…, uh, random electronic devices?"

"_First-rate_ electronic devices," McKay corrected smugly. "An LSD, ancient scanner, radio, extra batteries, and my PDA." He eased the scanner out of his pocket and wired it into the tablet. Then he eased a connection onto a crystal under the closest console.

Lorne rolled his eyes. "Oh, yeah. That's gonna bruise. I feel better already." He rubbed the welt on his cheek and thought he just might be cursed. From the time he was almost possessed by a Go'ould in the Milky Way to the moment he'd arrived in Pegasus, stuck with the most arrogant and blinding ninny in two galaxies, this was 'above all' expectations. Held by an insane man with delusions of deity and possible lead poisoning sprouting from his head, stuck on the hottest and most humid, habitable planet known in Pegasus that had already put him in the hospital, waiting for a possessed military superior that wasn't going to show up—he was cursed. And, yes, those mangled military terms spouting out of Rodney's mouth were just as irritating as he'd imagined.

Rodney's stylus stopped tapping on the screen and he elbowed the major. "That should just about do it." He indicated the tablet with a small smile. "You've heard the phrase, 'the pen is mightier than the sword,' Major? Well, it's actually a stylus, but that's beside the point—"

"What _is_ the point?"

"I'm in."

"Oh." The major's eyebrows went up. "What are you doing?"

"I'm seeing what he's doing."

"Well, what's _he_ doing?"

"Uh oh."

Lorne followed Rodney's eyes toward the hijacker who looked right back at the scientist and thundered, "What are you doing?"

Evan only got half-way to his feet as the catalyst descended on them with his silver-crazed eyes. With a wave of his metallic fingernails, the major's body flew sideways across the room and slammed into the far corner. He sagged to the floor, leaving a smear of blood behind on the wall.

The room spun and blurred as he heard a steady whine fill his ears. The whine squeaked and the cadence increased and sharpened into McKay's voice speaking faster than usual. He concentrated on the voice and recognized words, pleading words which rose together in pitch and then separated in sudden meaning.

"J-j-just remember you want us alive! Killing me isn't going to get you Sheppard. He-he won't trade for a dead man. You need to calm down. I can help you. I mean, I know what you're trying to do and I can help you do that. I'm smart. And when I say smart, I mean really, really, really smart. I know these ancient consoles. I can get it up and running again, easy, in no time. Just don't hurt him anymore—or me!"

"You're spying on me! What is this machine?"

"I-I-I told you. Th-th-that's my computer tablet. Data storage. It's nothing. It just, uh, reads ancient control panels, see?"

The voices emerged from two blurred figures across the room. A dark long coat towered over a small dark target with arms. The target, Rodney, scooted his tablet toward the catalyst who levitated it into his hands.

"Look, I can help you get the systems back up, run diagnostics, do all sorts of useful things, so you don't want to hurt me. I-I have the gene, the ancient gene, and I can initialize systems for you. So does Major Lorne, so you could use him, too. Remember, y-y-you want to use us, trade us for Sheppard?"

Lorne could barely see through the fog clouding his vision and he felt the back of his head carefully. His hand came away wet and sticky. However, there wasn't anything wrong with his ears anymore and he couldn't quite believe what Rodney was offering_. _He hadn't even been down that long.

"_Doc!"_

"It's all right. I know what I'm doing," McKay assured with worried eyes and looked back up at their captor.

"I am the catalyst!" the man snarled. "I need nothing from _rodents_!"

"But you could use more help, right? There's a lot of systems to bring back up in eighteen hours. And it's—" McKay squeaked as his body elevated and hung several feet over the floor. "Not again!_"  
_

The mad eyes flashed. "What do you know about the Ring of Alignment?"

"Nothing! I mean, all I know is the-the-the ring towers are priming to do something big, ancient-something big, involving the temple at the zenith hour. Maybe a power generator directed at the gate to dial another galaxy or something—please let me down."

"Where is the _ring key_?"

"I don't know. I don't know anything about a ring key." Rodney's eyes remained fixed on the ground below in fear.

"I know _he_ took it!" the catalyst spat.

"Who? Sheppard? Took…took what?"

"I felt it, so close…" He clenched his hand into a fist and raised it and his eyes took on an inward focus. "Your instructions grow tiresome… I would use him until the key returns… Just to the _eleventh_ hour." The fist opened and Rodney dropped to the floor with a yelp and the hijacker pointed at him. "You will bring all the systems back up to full power."

"Ah, okay." McKay pointed to the tablet in the catalyst's hands. "I'm gonna need that to do that."

•

Dr. Elizabeth Weir, commander of the Atlantis expedition, fielded the evening call from her quarters with practiced composure. The emergency reported by Dr. Beckett didn't come unexpectedly. Their prisoner was awake and talking due to her earlier rescinded order. Weir had authorized Beckett to bring her out of sedation on the chance that they could contact Sheppard through her. The growing concern over the hostages along with a lack of military leadership had brought Weir and Beckett to take desperate measures on Atlantis while Teyla and Ronon pursued the colonel.

Dr. Beckett, her chief medical officer, while understandably concerned about the wisdom of trusting a mass murderer with replicator traits, was taking every precaution to isolate the prisoner during her interview. She hadn't realized how many precautions until Zelenka advised her she had time to take a shower before the interview.

"What? Why? What's happening, Radek?"

"_I need time to set up external monitors in observation room,"_ His Slavic accent sounded slightly muffled over the com. She guessed he was in a bio hazard suit.

"Did Carson ask for this?"

"_Yes. Evidently he thinks I only set up electronic hardware,"_ he muttered. _"McKay and his ego…"_

"Well, it's a good idea," Weir conceded.

"_I'm not sure any of this is good idea,"_ he grumbled. _"It should take another fifteen minutes."_

"Understood. Weir out."

Later, when Dr. Weir entered the observation deck, Carson and Radek had their heads together over a seizing monitor and briefly came up for air and a greeting.

"Hello. How's our patient?" The commander looked down at the prisoner in the rubber room and frowned. She had sensors taped to her body that relayed the information to the monitors behind her on a closed, secure system. The former quarantine room was now lined in rubber and a monitor hung over the raised hospital bed.

"Aye," Carson's soft brogue broke her fascination. "She's doing as well as expected. Her implant is making a difference in recovery time. She's well ahead of schedule. And she has movement in the fingers on her right hand. She's lucid and a bit frightened, but I've settled her somewhat."

"Then she's ready?"

"Aye."

"She is. Me?" Zelenka's wild hair poked up from the back of the monitor. "Need one minute."

"What's wrong?"

Zelenka fiddled with the plugs and the monitor brightened into a live feed of Fusia's face with her eyes open and focused on the upper deck where they gathered. "Is easier to plug in than suit up," he explained with a gesture toward the bio hazard lockers.

"Are you sure this connection is secure?" Weir asked.

"Absolutely." Zalenka pushed up his falling glasses on his nose and squinted at the screen. "Call me the cable guy." He beamed. "All electronics are on a closed, independent network. You can interview her from here."

"Oh."

Carson joined her in front of the monitor. "Are we ready then?"

Zelenka tapped a few keys. "Is recording. She can hear and see us." With a nervous look at the mass murderer, Zelenka stepped away from the video feed and returned to his external monitors.

"Hello," Elizabeth greeted the woman and waited for her eyes to focus on the screen. "I'm Dr. Weir and this is Dr. Beckett, your medical physician. You're safe in our isolation room. Who are you? What is your name?"

Her clear blue eyes blinked and examined the image of the two doctors. Their fair-haired prisoner suddenly looked very young and scared. "I am Enabler Class A, three-eighty-seven-triple-zero-eight, of Integratia."

"That's quite…extensive," Weir smiled encouragingly. "How do we address you?"

"Enabler Fusia." Fusia's eyes traveled over the ceiling and the window where her visitors stood at the monitor. "You say I'm in an isolation room. Where? Is that why you must talk to me through this display?"

"Aye," Dr. Beckett interjected. "We have detected an implant in your brain."

"I-I don't understand. What's wrong with my link? It isn't working?" Her eyes lost focus for a moment. "I thought… Something's wrong with it."

"We think your implant is capable of duplicating into other hosts," Beckett responded gently. "We think you've infected one of our people."

Her brows drew together. "You're accusing me of integrating an alien! That…_hideous_ crime, I didn't commit! I wasn't in control. The A-ware virus uploaded itself into your John Sheppard, so there is no reason to keep me isolated in this room."

Dr. Weir exchanged a worst-case-confirmed look with Beckett and Zelenka. "Enabler Fusia, you've met Colonel Sheppard?" she resumed.

"No. I was only an observer."

Dr. Carson Beckett took point with a quiet touch on Weir's arm. "What happened and what exactly is this A-ware virus the colonel has in him now?"

"The A-ware was designed to pursue and retrieve one of our most wanted criminals. The A-ware travels from host to host, uploading into the link and assuming control. It is capable of integrating aliens when necessary to acquire its target." She sniffed pathetically and lowered her eyes. "It took me to Puchek to hunt down an insane catalyst with a personal shield. The catalyst almost killed me. Because I was useless to it, the A-ware discarded me in favor of John Sheppard, the first person to approach." Her gaze fixed on Beckett's kind eyes. "The A-ware will continue to hunt its target until it can upload into the criminal's brain, assume control and bring the criminal to justice."

Stunned, Weir glanced at Zelenka and Beckett to see if they were taking this news any better than she did. "Are you telling me the thing that killed eighty-three of your people is in Colonel Sheppard?"

Fusia's face crumpled and tears started leaking from her eyes. "My people are gone! Dead! He killed them all! He tried to kill me!"

"Who killed them?"

Her lips trembled and she blinked away the tears, unable to lift a hand to wipe them away or hide her distress. "The-the catalyst attacked and the A-ware defended itself. It killed my people!"

"We think your criminal is holding some of our men hostage," Weir pressed. "He identified himself as the 'catalyst' and 'center' among other things. Who is he?"

"That's the criminal that the A-ware is after. He's a psychopath. He's caused the death of millions! The A-ware was in pursuit. Somehow, the catalyst discovered us. He has strong kinetic abilities and he tried to kill me through the link." Her eyes closed briefly. "I thought… I thought I was outcast, but I didn't do it!"

"Outcast?" Carson shot a startled look at Elizabeth.

"It explained the lack of community." Her eyes returned to the screen. "But my link—there's something wrong."

Carson Beckett instantly felt ashamed that he hadn't considered her condition a punishment.

"You don't have any contact with anyone?" Dr. Weir searched her eyes. "No one at all?"

"No. There's not enough power."

"Enabler Fusia," Dr. Zelenka stepped into view. "I am Dr. Zelenka. Have you tried reconnecting your link to your community?"

Fusia's blue eyes flashed angrily. "Don't you think I've tried? I'm lonely! There's not enough power."

Weir's lips thinned. "Excuse us for a moment, Enabler Fusia."

"Please, don't leave me!"

"We'll be right back, lass."

"Radek." Weir waited for the engineer to cut the sound feed and turned to Beckett and Zelenka. "Well!" She exhaled explosively.

"Aye."

"Yes, well."

Weir's eyebrow rose. "That pretty much confirms everything we've gathered—except…"

"Aye, except our mass murderer isn't the real McCoy. And that explains why Colonel Sheppard went AWOL and Evan and Rodney were taken hostage when they got in the way."

Elizabeth nodded. "And the catalyst wants to trade for Sheppard now. Why?"

"He's insane." Carson shrugged. "He doesn't need _reason_."

"He wants a sacrifice?" Zelenka shuddered. "Or did Teyla say 'offering.'"

"In any case, Teyla's right. The A-ware and Sheppard are on our side in this match." Dr. Weir crossed her arms. "We need to find him, but our guest is not in contact with Sheppard—or anyone else for that matter."

"Her link is severed. She severed it," Carson pointed out. "She can repair it."

"But the colonel is off-world." Weir objected.

"Is sub-space, Elizabeth," Zelenka shook his head. "Simple matter of power. I am getting emissions from her implant. She is connected but doesn't have power to reach anyone."

"Power is not an option here," Elizabeth stated flatly. "Are you forgetting what she is—could be? We only have her word about what happened on Puchek. What are you suggesting?"

"The implant needs power," Beckett rubbed his chin. "It might speed up her recovery. If we keep her isolated, it should be safe enough to supply power."

"We have batteries," Zelenka suggested.

Dr. Weir turned and looked down at the prisoner through the glass partition. "The question is do we trust her enough to give it to her?"

"Elizabeth," the Scottish accent softly prodded her. "This is what you wanted when you stopped the sedation. The damage is already done. She's lucid. With more power, she might be able to reach Colonel Sheppard. At the first sign of trouble, I can sedate her again."

Weir nodded. "All right, we do it, but keep her isolated."

•

_Next chapter, _Drafted_... _


	24. Drafted

**The A-ware** by Fandomatic

•

**Drafted**

The alarming shot of adrenaline surged through Sheppard's body and kicked his heart into panic mode. The colonel flew out of the bedding in his socks and aimed his forty-five toward any intruders. He felt the phase crystal shift and increase its vibrations. His sparse room with a single bed, shuttered window, small storage chest, and a luxurious bathtub in the corner was clear. A heavy bolt still lay securely across his closed wooden door.

"Damn it, Frank! You've gotta stop waking me up like that." Sheppard straightened and lowered his forty-five. He could almost swear the phase crystal's hum jolted like a chuckle.

_POWER BLOOM IN FIVE MINUTES._

John winced and shoved aside his annoyance to get an evaluation on his HUD. The last bloom from the tower came as a surge of raw power which agitated the phase crystal with its force, but Frank had been able to handle it while he slept. While the blooms provided his implant with needed power, their increasing strength would eventually wreck havoc with the implant. And the HUD cautioned that the coming power bloom required housekeeping preparations. It warned that the crystal would not be able to tolerate the third successor so close to the tower. To survive that one, he'd need a surge protector in a Renaissance town.

Effectively, in less than two hours, at T minus ten hours, the point of no return would be crossed. Gate travel would become compromised by the proximity of power in the tower and the phase crystal would shatter his self beyond repair.

It didn't surprise him that the phase crystal and the stargate had the same zone of safety. Frank was right. It was time to act.

John laid the gun down on the bed and grabbed his uniform shirt. The sleeve was torn and crusted with blood and dirt, but the minor gash had healed closed with a rough scab. His thigh also had a scab over the puncture wound he'd received in the jumper crash, but his body felt strong and there was only a slight stiffness to his wounds. He dressed in the stiff BDUs and shrugged into the tac vest, strapping down the holster and keeping an eye on the countdown. Once he'd automatically checked and secured his sidearm, he made one last sweep of the room looking for anything he might have forgotten.

A minute before the tower bloom, Sheppard eyelids closed for a moment and they opened revealing silver irises around the pupils where the neutronium flooded in. His dark, spiky hair sprouted neutronium roots that engulfed his hair.

Frank shifted the crystal out of phase, expanding John into a transparent world composed of jelly. His silver hair flowed around his head as he watched his corporeal hand flex with a fuzzy aura surrounding it.

His expanded perception with the active link gave him a slightly different environment. No longer was his world colorless. The Jell-O outlines were full of liquid color like the obelisk core. The sense of triumph that shuddered through his nerves filled him with an awareness of power emanating from the crystal. The possibilities were endless and he could literally taste the sweetness of unbelievable freedom.

Saturated with feelings of invincibility, John calmly focused a few blocks away on the obelisk. The core pulsed and collapsed as the power compounded. He could see the distortion wave ripple effect outward as the tower blossomed with vivid colors and disturbed the jelly world. The first wave hit and the ripples washed through him exciting the phase crystal.

The crystal echoed the resonance with a longing that lingered after the shock wave abated. Perched on the edge of a precipice, it trembled and radiated its own ricochet. He felt the crystal shed excess mini-blooms that rolled off him in a rainbow wave of color. Once the glow faded, it stabilized and pulsed like a second heart inside him.

With clarity, his suppressed thoughts rose again from the back of his mind and he realized his mission, the directive imprint, was backwards. The crystal was more important than the catalyst to Integratia and yet the directive drove him to put the catalyst first. He couldn't allow the crystal to fall into the catalyst's hands. He had to save Integratia from this potential disaster—maybe even _keep _the phase crystal to protect them. The idea festered in his mind and started to take hold.

But when John returned to the physical world and let the neutronium recede from his senses, his Superman complex shut off as if a door slammed, leaving him feeling anxious, ashamed and possessive.

The directive gave him purpose and there was no time to wallow. With his priorities realigned, he had to get to the tower and power it down.

•

Tracking down the messy, dark-haired man in uniform was as tedious as following Manfer, the trader, from shop to shop. The Porter's wife reported the errant colonel had walked toward the docks and the busy commerce area that lined the streets serving the needs of a bustling trading harbor. Her description of Colonel Sheppard, complete with a limp and black wristband, convinced Teyla and Ronon that they were only minutes behind him.

Methodically moving from door to door, Sheppard's team members re-visited each establishment inquiring about their missing leader. Because they had done this yesterday, the explanations were brief and the answers quick. But with only two doing the investigation, their work stretched over the mid-day hour and the end of the commerce district loomed closer.

At the last boarding house, they took a welcomed rest and meal and updated Weir when Atlantis dialed in. Dr. Weir confirmed that the colonel was infected with an AI virus that was in control and hunting the target that took their men hostage. Teyla gave her their situation report that Colonel Sheppard had been seen, and Weir decided to send backup.

While the teams spread out over the city, Manfer suggested continuing down the upper commerce street, back toward the town square. The two winding streets connected several places along the harbor hill and Manfer thought the colonel could have cut through to the upper street instead.

By late afternoon they had covered a good portion of the upper street and were nearing the central plaza when a young messenger approached Manfer with a note. The trader opened the post and grinned.

"Good news," he waved the paper. "I found your man." As the team gathered around him, he explained. "He was sighted in the main square an hour ago and my man followed him to Manny's. She said he took a room this morning and just ordered dinner. Her tavern's up beyond the upper side of the main square."

"That is in the opposite direction of the commerce section." Teyla frowned because they'd been canvassing the wrong streets for over five hours. None of their search parties were even close.

"Yep. Let's go," Ronon set off at a trot and Teyla joined him.

Left behind, the trader objected to his reward running away from him and he raced after it clutching his proof. Even though the two offworlders looked like they were moving easily, they drew farther away and he had to put on a burst of speed to stay within sight. He only caught up after they stopped short of Manny's Tavern to regroup and Manfer jogged up, breathless.

"Is there a backdoor to the common room?" Ronon asked.

"No," the trader gasped.

Swinging her pack off her shoulder, Teyla unzipped it and pulled out the prototype anti-replicator gun that McKay had calibrated for just this moment while Ronon flipped his gun to stun and checked the charge.

Manfer hastily backpedaled at the appearance of weapons and protested, "Hey, I thought you said you were friends! I can't be a part of this. Violence isn't tolerated here."

"We are not going to harm him," Teyla assured. "Colonel Sheppard is not himself."

"Stay here," Ronon ordered Manfer. "He might shoot back."

Without any wasted time, the two darted across the street and entered the building with weapons ready.

•

For the second time that day, Lt. Col. Sheppard found the boarding tables empty of patrons in the tavern. The long room connected to the main tavern through a dark, arched passageway. One long massive table sat in the center of the room with its head chair almost butting into the fireplace hearth. Slotted narrow windows let in the afternoon light from the street outside.

Sheppard sat at the head with the cold, empty hearth at his back. He was still hungry and ordered an early meal from the owner. The old woman brought out her biggest pot. She'd been exposed to his appetite earlier that morning. But her manner betrayed a nervousness that hadn't been there before and she kept eying him every time she walked back in.

_Ah, Atlantis is here,_ he realized. _Who else would Atlantis send other than Teyla and Ronon?_

With his earlier mission accomplished, he brightened with the possibility of seeing his teammates again. He missed their camaraderie and the idea of including them appealed to him.

He paused in mid-motion as the thought enchanted him with more possibilities. His team might help him for a short time, but they would continue on to Puchek for him or in spite of him. The smirk that played on his lips was decidedly mischievous.

John consumed two bowls of stew and started on his third before Teyla and Ronon smoothly entered the common room with guns drawn. They split up at the end of the table and approached warily from both sides with weapons trained on him. They stopped near the center, intent on keeping their distance and splitting his targets. Ronon had his gun, but Teyla had an anti-replicator gun.

The ARG immediately concerned him. It was one of the SGC's proto-type guns that had been abandoned for their unwieldy balance and bulky handling. The gun had a large cylinder case attached around the end of the barrel with a built-in side handle. Teyla awkwardly held it in front of her with a support strap holding up the barrel.

He figured Rodney had calibrated it for the implant. He felt the phase crystal shift slightly inside. _Don't blink on me, Frank! She came to talk. Otherwise, we'd already be toast._

The A-ware gave a good impression of a non-committal grunt. Frank was ready.

"Teyla. Ronon. Care to join me for breakfast?" Sheppard waved to either side of the table to the chairs next to him.

"It is the afternoon, John. And we came to relay some news." Neither of them moved toward the chairs.

"Ah, so it is. Kinda been sleeping all day. How about some stew?" John indicated the pot and bowls on the table with his tankard. "Sit down. It's all been paid for, courtesy of Atlantis. Evidently, I'm on a tab from your earlier visit. They're kinda anxious to keep me here. Something about a reward." He grinned at them. "They've been very accommodating. Really, sit down."

"Maybe not." Dex moved sideways against the wall to further split John's targets and his eyes swept over him, assessing potential danger. Sheppard knew he looked used and worn, but not harmless. He still had his forty-five pistol strapped to his side, although the dusty, blood-stained uniform under his tac vest gave the illusion he was hurt. But that wouldn't fool Ronon.

"We want you to come home, John," Teyla said.

John shook his head and noted their strategy, which wasn't exactly inviting. "Not yet. Actually, it's a little dangerous to be around me." He eyed the anti-replicator gun as Teyla backed toward the windowed wall. "Especially with that."

"Hum, so nothing's changed?" Ronon stopped short a few yards away at John's two o'clock.

John smiled easily before he responded. "Well, if you shoot me with that ARG, you'll detonate a twenty kiloton nuclear bomb, which will probably set off a chain reaction in the stargate tower, and with the stargate fueling the blast, the whole planetside goes." He resumed eating.

Teyla shifted counterclockwise, widening his targets, and didn't lower the gun. "Why should I believe you?"

The colonel chewed and swallowed. "Well, I left because I like Atlantis the way it is, so _home_ is not an option." He continued when she didn't waver. "I hear Rodney's been busy looking over the gate tower, so I assume he told you it was doubling power every thirty-eight minutes. And I also assume he told you that the power will begin to affect gate operation. You have less than one hour before you're stuck here." Sheppard scooped up another spoonful and smirked at his own lies. He'd already turned off the tower. "Does any of this sound familiar?"

Teyla's eyes met Ronon's with a silent message and her gaze returned to the colonel. Sheppard could see her indecision.

He finished his bite and prompted around it. "You said something about news?"

Ronon went straight to the point. "McKay and Lorne were captured. He wants to trade."

"Really?" John looked mildly surprised. Lorne was an unexpected complication. Atlantis no longer had an experienced military leader. He swallowed, put down his spoon and leaned back in the wooden chair, careful to keep his hands on the table. "What exactly did he say?"

Teyla quoted, "The catalyst said, 'Their health will be forfeit. They are nothing but a pair of insects that I will trade for your John Sheppard. He betrayed his love for this pair when he defied me, but I will accept his repentance. He must bring his offering to the Puchek temple in seventeen hours or I will rend their carcasses in two as they breathe.'"

The memory of being torn in half caused him to shift uncomfortably in his chair and he wondered if the catalyst had chosen his words for the A-ware. But the catalyst couldn't be certain he carried it.

"He thought we were hiding you," Ronon added. His aim dropped to John's center and Sheppard stopped the A-ware from phasing out. Ronon just wanted to make eye contact as they talked. _Probably part of his plan to shoot me while I'm playing table tennis between the two._

"We have ten and a half hours left, John."

The colonel moved his foot and shoved Teyla's side chair away from the table with his boot. "You want to know about the catalyst? Sit down."

Teyla glanced at Ronon and shook her head. "You are infected with an implant, John. We cannot take the risk."

"We'll listen from here," Ronon agreed. "What's he want with you?"

Sheppard folded his arms slowly. Their posture told him what they were planning. They had swapped strategies. It was just a matter of time before Ronon fired. "I have something he wants."

"You can do better than that."

John sighed. "Actually, no I can't. He's also a telepath—within a limited range. Everything you know, he knows."

Concerned, Teyla shifted her posture. "We were going to mount a rescue." She wondered how much of her plan had been compromised and shot Ronon a worried look.

"Not a good idea. He's got a personal shield. He's also a telekinetic, plus, he's psychotic. Bad combination." Sheppard looked back and forth between them. "Look, I went up against him in a puddle jumper and _lost. _You _did_ see the jumper?"

"You got a plan?" Ronon asked.

John hesitated. "Well, it's _his_ plan, an even swap. Me for the hostages."

Teyla started shaking her head and lowered her gun. _That_ sounded like the colonel. "No. We can bring in Atlantis."

"That's not a bad idea," Sheppard cocked his head. _I could use some drones. _

"What are you thinking?" Ronon's gun didn't budge.

"I can't tell you. He's a telepath." The colonel picked up his spoon again and took another bite. When Teyla and Ronon just looked at him, confused, he waved the spoon and spoke around the food. "Well, he can't read me."

"Because of the implant?" Teyla guessed and took a step closer.

He swallowed. "I can't tell you," he repeated and shoveled in another spoonful and chewed, looking at them pointedly.

"Oh." Teyla made a connection and moved closer to the table, narrowing the field. "The ancient gene. Dr. McKay and Major Lorne both have it. _He_ could not read them so he thought we were working with Colonel Sheppard."

Sheppard shrugged, thinking Teyla was too smart for her own good. "You'll just have to trust me," he said around his mouthful.

"You're asking a lot," Ronon's eyes narrowed, "for a mystic."

John swallowed and turned to face him. "I'm just asking you to trust me, Ronon. I can't tell you anything 'cause the guy's a telepath." Ronon's gun still pointed at his chest. "You're gonna have to pick. Either shoot me, or sit down and have some stew." Without looking away from Ronon, he pointed at Teyla and said, "But not you. Shooting is not an option."

Dex's expression flattened and for a moment John thought he'd pressed the Satedan too hard. Ronon finally spoke. "Just answer this. What are you really here to do?"

Sheppard raised his spoon and realized his spoon opposed Ronon's gun so he set it down carefully and shoved his bowl aside. He leaned forward on crossed arms, bringing up the full Sheppard personality. "Do you want to save McKay and Lorne or not?"

The Athosian and the Satedan nodded at each other and relaxed their posture. Ronon holstered his weapon slowly and the two closed ranks to meet at Sheppard's table. They were willing to deal with the implant. "What can we do?" Teyla asked and laid her heavy weapon on the table in front of her.

"Sit down." John shoved Ronon's chair out slightly with his toe and waited for the two to join him. "I need you to go to Puchek and Tresdia. Ronon, in about five minutes you can gate out to Tresdia where I crashed Jumper One, pick up my backpack in the jumper and take it to Puchek. Teyla, get rid of that ARG and go to Puchek. When Ronon gets there head straight for the village and stay away from the psycho in the temple. I'll catch up to you there."

"Tresdia?" Ronon repeated and frowned. "Why can't you do it?"

"Will you do it?"

Teyla tilted her head toward the colonel resting her hands on the table near the ARG. "Will it help save Dr. McKay and Major Lorne?"

"Yes."

"Then we'll do it." Ronon crossed his arms, leaned his elbows on the table and glanced at Teyla for confirmation.

"Tresdia?" Teyla picked up Ronon's dropped question. "This is perhaps M3K-329, known as Flattop to its people?"

"Tresdia is the third planet. One, two, three. They all line up." Sheppard reached under his tac vest and opened his breast pocket and cupped the two silver disks no bigger than watch batteries in his hand. He dropped his eyes to conceal the sudden flush of silver in his eyes. "First world, second center, third world."

"What's that?" Ronon indicated his hands as John dropped one of the disks into his other hand.

John ignored him and continued as he counted off the planets on his fingers. "Unsdia, Puchek and Tresdia. We're on Unsdia," he spread his hands wide, "the trader's planet." Sheppard gave no warning as the almost invisibly fine neutronium tendrils flew out his fingernails and latched onto their hands. The tendrils shot through their nerves with a tingling hiccup ending their impulse to pull away, effectively putting their brains on hold. Their dual eyes froze on him and he observed his own odd appearance in 3-D. His eyes had flooded with silver and his messy hair stood on end, coated with silver neutronium.

John activated the implants and the disks dissolved through the conduits and flowed into their brains almost instantaneously. As the hardware wired itself through their neural paths as links for the ungifted, it began cataloging their memories and knowledge.

The linked had several layers of controls ingrained within the implant. The core, at its base, swore allegiance to Integratia, but took the longest to launch; hence, the twenty-four hour period before integration. The second, imprinting his directive on the implant, was a temporary measure designed for temporary assignments when the assignment took the linked from his immediate broadcast zone. The third was his broadcast zone. As long as they were in range, the linked would follow his directive.

His delight with their integration was only thwarted by the inconvenient fact that he couldn't link them or imprint his directive on their implants and would have to wait the full twenty-four hours until they became integrated like him. It would be so much easier and satisfying to send them off as linked Integratians, but he couldn't risk imprinting his own directive on such an insecure link. One sniff from the catalyst and his secret mission would be public knowledge. It was better to keep them in the dark and independent rather than risk the catalyst reading his intentions through his team.

For now, he would have to be content with his naive scouts and the link would have to remain closed. In any case, their cooperation wasn't required. They would both end up on Puchek before the deadline.

The silver retreated from his hair and eyes and he severed the connections that immobilized them last. The entire operation only took about five seconds. As their heads sagged slightly on release, he continued his monologue as if nothing had occurred.

"Unsdia was the site of the first stolen stargate in Pegasus. Tresdia also hosts a stolen gate. One of the ancients was actually the thief—"

Teyla visibly started and clutched the table. "What? Did you feel that?"

Ronon lunged to his feet and knocked over the chair that had betrayed him. His gun was in his hands pointing at Sheppard. "I thought… I felt something."

Sheppard had followed him to his feet and froze, spreading his empty hands wider in a calming motion. "It's just the thirty-eight minute power bloom. I felt the vibration, too. It's getting stronger and it's time to leave. In another thirty-eight minutes, it won't be safe to use the stargates on any of the ring planets."

"Then we must move quickly." Teyla rose smoothly and her serene composure led Ronon to lower his weapon. She hesitated as she picked up her ARG from the table and shot Ronon an uneasy glance. "Colonel," Teyla started and then revised. "John." Her firm tone claimed the leadership role and her eyes sought understanding at the same time. "If our alliance results in Rodney's death, be assured I will not be so…" She broke off, unable to complete her threat. This was still Sheppard.

Ronon flipped his gun with a showy twirl that holstered it and growled, "Me, too."

John straightened and pulled a serious expression with his hand rubbing his lips hard to keep his smile under control. "Understood." He was afraid he was going to lose it and start grinning.

His two unsuspecting scouts turned and left the room together. Neither were aware of the new implants they carried, although he thought they should be getting glimpses of activity when they were exposed to new information. It wouldn't take them long to figure it out. He couldn't suppress the happy grin that tugged at his face. He had denied them true integration, but that didn't mean it was forever. With more time, he would be reunited with his team on Integratia.

"Come on, Frank." And the A-ware shifted him into the white, colorless jellyfish world. He carefully rejoined the link and instantly located and recognized his targets through subspace. Unfortunately for them, they couldn't sense his link out of phase.

Sheppard pushed through the wall to the street where Ronon and Teyla talked to a trader. Teyla took her leave of Ronon and followed the trader with their gear to another destination. Ronon continued on toward the stargate, with Sheppard tailing him.

Specialist Dex dialed the stargate that was deadly to Sheppard now that the crystal resonated at full power.

Once the Satedan gated out to Tresdia, John cast for Ronon's link. Frank expanded his tendrils encasing the phase crystal and the crystal slipped into momentary madness as he focused on Ronon. His jellyfish world warped like a fun-house mirror into the Tresdia gate tower with his puddle jumper folded around the base. Ronon passed by him and approached the jumper.

Sheppard had eyes only for the obelisk. He trotted up to the outer casing and stepped into the vibrant core. As he stood inside the narrow passage, his untamable black hair stuck straight out, excited by the energy charging around it. The colorful patterns of power humming through the space around its center were beautiful. He touched the inner core and the implant recharged. In relief, he switched it to power down. Even though the process of bleeding off energy would take the same amount of time as the buildup, the imbalance of power from Unsdia and Tresdia at the apex would throw off the compression.

With new energy feeding the implant and the tower shutting down, he left the obelisk feeling pretty good about things. The first step to saving Integratia and saving her research had been completed. There was that little minor thing about saving the universe in there, too, but that was insignificant. Integratia came first.

He grinned as he watched Ronon carry the useless backpack back to the DHD and dial Puchek.

Now that he had his own scouts working for him, he could keep the phase crystal as an advantage and travel instantly anywhere he sent them. The start of his small collective, admittedly incomplete, pleased him.

After Ronon stepped through the gate, he concentrated on his next move. Once more he cast about searching for Enabler, Class A: 3870008. The A-ware eased its hold on the phase crystal and the crystal warped his perception. His fun-house of mirrors reorganized into the rubberized room of the Atlantis observation pit.

Atlantis could offer Integratia lots of wonderful things. _This was gonna be fun._

•

When Ronon's back lit silhouette stepped through the gate with his blaster ready in one hand and the backpack in the other, Teyla sighed in relief and lowered her P90. She emerged from behind the DHD and met him in the glow of the activated gate as he stepped down from the platform. His gun stayed ready as he wrinkled his nose.

His eyes settled on Teyla's grim face and a sense of déjà vu filled the Satedan. Puchek's early dawn had the overpowering stench of death permeating a pitch black world. With an overcast sky, the moons shed no light on their arrival. Only the gate beat back the oppressive darkness, casting long flickering shadows over Teyla's face. The stench was one he was familiar with.

"Death pyres," Ronon grunted as the blue glow of the gate rasped closed.

"Throughout the valley," Teyla's voice confirmed. "But there are more dead up here. I counted sixteen Puchek warriors. They died like Isenberg and Norman."

"The catalyst."

"Yes. He must have come through last night." Teyla adjusted her pack. "First light is in half an hour. Did you bring a flashlight?"

"Brought Sheppard's backpack." She heard zipping noises as Ronon searched it. "Here it is." A clicking noise accompanied an annoyed grunt. "It's dead."

"What about night goggles?"

"Nope. Nothing."

Teyla sighed and felt for the stick she'd stowed in her pack. A sparking flame zapped out as she lit her extinguished torch. "Something feels wrong about this place, Ronon, and it is not just the death pyres."

"Let's get out of here," the Satedan agreed. Ronon followed Teyla's torch as she lit the way they had traveled two days ago toward the promontory edge. They traveled silently with quiet steps along the narrow path. As they neared the edge, Teyla's dread deepened as she remembered the time before when Sheppard had been stolen from them. She couldn't help the feeling of deep mistrust that his presence fostered. She feared that Sheppard would never return and this mission they had agreed to participate in would bring about their deaths.

Suddenly, her path lit with flames as a spark ignited a circle of fire around them. Blinded, she held up a hand to cover the glare and instantly the shadows sprang to life as warriors leapt into position around them. Surrounded and blinded to every side, Teyla called out an unnecessary warning to Ronon and held out her hand peacefully under the torch. "I am Teyla Emmagan, your Athosian friend. We come in peace."

"You are no friend of the Puchek, Teyla Emmagan," she heard the warrior return. "Seize them!"

Teyla used her torch as her only ready weapon and swept her opponent off his feet. Instinctively she backed up to Ronon as she heard his gun discharging into the blinding night. Without her sight, she struck out blindly with the torch and felt a solid connection accompanied by a piercing cry. But then the Puchek closed in and the torch was uselessly trapped between two bodies. Then she fought with elbows and knees as their attackers closed in and a club hit her hard on the side of her forehead.

Her body fell under the attackers as they clawed at Ronon's back. She saw him fall as her world went blissfully dark.

•

_Next chapter, _Users_... _


	25. Users

**The A-ware** by Fandomatic

•

**Users**

Still occupying the incorporeal world, Colonel Sheppard looked down at Enabler Fusia hooked up to the monitors in the quarantine room. He could see the denser mass of her depleted link nestled under the lighter bone of her skull. Fusia did not open her eyes.

Two days ago, a forced quarantine had locked his team in this same room with the observation deck full of monitors and technicians. It seemed like another lifetime. Now armed guards walked the deck and stood outside the door. Occasionally, the guard on the deck looked down at his charge as he paced.

He knew what Atlantis had in store for her—a gateless world without people. As soon as the Daedalus returned in three more weeks, Weir would make it happen. The Atlantis commander could be uncompromising in her sense of justice. For a proud enabler that came from a planet reliant on instant connections and soft living, it would be worse than hell. Under those conditions, he gave her a week.

She would accept his proposal.

John Sheppard passed through the containment wall and headed for Rodney's lab. His internal clock told him it was thirty minutes short of midnight. He walked through the sleeping city and through McKay's door into his lab. The lab sat in darkness, empty. He approached McKay's transparent computer and hesitated.

His pulse raced as he remembered the vivid colors and the rush of sweet power that came with the neutronium flush. During the last merge within the void, he'd gotten a taste of the phase crystal and it was seductive. Something that desirable couldn't be good for you.

He licked his lips and stalled. "Okay, so you think you can do this?"

_I HAVE HIS ENTIRE LAPTOP MEMORY AT MY DISPOSAL._

Sheppard warned, "You're gonna have to be fast."

Frank only paused for a heartbeat. _THE PROGRAM IS READY._

"When I said 'fast,'" Annoyed, Sheppard redirected, "I mean fast, get-in-get-out fast." Before he finished speaking, the silver neutronium started drowning his green eyes and black hair. The Superman rush from the phase crystal came almost instantaneously. The flush shuddered through him as his synthetics automatically extended a silver conduit to the computer stack, phased into reality for a second to use the connection and then phased back out before withdrawing the tendril.

"Whoa," John had an instant to breathe in the sensation and clarity of thought before the backlash of isolation hit him as the silver drained from his eyes. His shoulders slumped and he cringed, expecting the intruder alarms to blare.

_ATLANTIS CAN NO LONGER DETECT YOUR IMPLANTS. _

The reassurance brought his head up. There were things to do. "Of course not," he snarled. If he could've slammed a door, he would have, but the ancients didn't build proper doors. He straightened with a renewed sense of purpose and turned away to start back for the observation room. The emotional rollercoaster ride hadn't ended and it frustrated him that his control was so feeble. But anger he could deal with.

By the time he retraced his steps to the enabler's side, he had regained his focus and surveyed the room objectively.

_THERE ARE STILL THE GUARDS._

"Yeah and there's a big blind spot right under the window where he's pacing," Sheppard pointed out as he dismissed the other guard leaning against the transparent wall by the door. "And _he_ can't even see into the room." He walked under the observation window and checked for reflections of the pacing guard, which was extraordinarily hard to do when the world looked like a back lit jellyfish.

He gave up and took up a position under the window. Trusting to the bored inattention of the guard, he collapsed back into reality and breathed in the scent of the sterile isolation room. The faint odor of new rubber filled his nostrils and his eyes drank in the solid red and metallic walls. He directed his focus on the sleeping enabler under the gently beeping monitor as silver intent saturated his eyes.

The temptation to return to the dizzying power of the crystal void made his hands shake as his neutronium conduits flowed out of his fingertips. He ignored the desire and concentrated on connecting the power cables to the prisoner and infusing Fusia's implant with the converted energy he'd stolen from her on Puchek.

Her eyes snapped open and he immediately sensed her outrage. His neutronium instantly recoiled from the blast of anger and snapped all the connections—even the link—as it drained from his hair and eyes. He took refuge in the cocoon of colorless jelly and winced. With the best of intentions, he'd trespassed and her sense of violation appalled him. With an eye for damage control, he repaired his link and observed her frustrated search for him. When she couldn't locate him, her calls became hesitant and a bit forlorn.

The instant of contact revealed her crippled implant had been busy mending her nerve paths with limited resources. His infusion had restored her power levels, but not the sizable base the A-ware had stolen. She was still crippled with an undersized link. He detected no trace of narcotics flowing through her system, so Atlantis must have allowed her to wake up. His casual contact disclosed that Atlantis was using her to find him through the link. His natural link to the prisoner was reason enough to abandon the room where he could be discovered. Sheppard walked through the wall into an empty storage room full of bins and shelves and phased into reality. The dark room brightened with his appearance and he turned the lights down with a thought.

_Fusia,_ he greeted her softly. He sensed her offense of his informal address immediately and flinched. She wasn't going to let this be easy.

_Enabler, Class G-2: Unassigned, Classified Eminent Directive,_ she acknowledged him pointedly.

_I prefer John Sheppard. _

She silently accepted his introduction with only the faintest hint of offense. _I believe you were trying to help so I will excuse your crass manners._

John moved a stacked bin and sat down on it. _You might want to hold onto that thought. _

Her image appeared in front of him and John started in surprise. _Because you have something more unpleasant for me, John Sheppard?_

Sheppard rose to his feet. _Wow. _There was nothing unpleasant about her. She wore a simple white gown that gathered and pleated ingeniously around her breasts and defied the laws of gravity. Silver tendrils framed her pale face that had escaped the elaborate comb tucked into a careless mass of silver curls, and when she tilted her head, a heady perfume filled his nostrils.

Her silver eyes swept over his dusty and blood-stained uniform with a dismissive appraisal meant to shame. He knew he looked ill-used and it was her fault. He wouldn't apologize for reality when reality declared an accessory to murder hid behind the beautiful facade.

She closed her eyes and spoke with a husky voice. "You judge us harshly, John Sheppard. We did what we had to. I have witnessed too much death." Her silver eyes lifted to his earnestly. "Catalyst 24 must be stopped." She reached out for his hand with both of hers. "Come, I would talk elsewhere. There is much for you to learn, John Sheppard, that your A-ware cannot know."

Surprisingly, he felt her hand grip his and gently pull him forward. His eyes looked up from her hand as she pulled him down a garden path toward a pond and small arbor under a massive oak. On every side, rolling hills with white tombstones climbed the slopes reminding him of Arlington. With shock, he realized it _was_ Arlington National Cemetery. The change of scenery from the dark storage room was complete with the scent of flowers to the slight whiff of wet earth and the soft breeze that ruffled his hair. The only thing that hadn't changed was his torn uniform and unshaven face.

"I think it fitting that we talk about the dead among the dead."

His history of this place crashed in on him as he recognized the arbor below the newer graves. Graves he blamed on himself. Sheppard pulled his hand from hers. He got the message loud and clear. "You know, you look nice, but you're not very nice."

She had stopped on the path ahead of him and turned around to address him. Fusia walked closer and leaned in to whisper, "Neither are you." She lifted a challenging eyebrow.

When his jaw clenched, she turned away to descend into the tended garden. "If I must hear blame and unpleasant thoughts, I would hear them in a place that screams it to you."

Sheppard's expression froze before he recovered his mask. He followed her to the white arbor where she sat on a bench. She innocently met his schooled face and patted the seat next to her. John leaned against the rail and refused to join her. "You're a telepath. I thought you couldn't read me."

"Not just _a_ telepath, John Sheppard. A _gifted_ telepath. And your link allows access, however, your A-ware cannot access you in here." Fusia regarded the scenery on the hill behind him with a pleasant smile. "Why would you block such a beautiful, poignant memory?"

He crossed his arms and refused to turn around. He knew what casket lay ready to intern. The familiar scene with the green tent was etched in his mind. He frowned. These were drone memories and should mean nothing to him. Yet they tore at his conscious when he should be concerned with new threats.

"You came to seek my help," she realized turning to regard him. "Because you have the phase crystal! Do you know how dangerous that is?"

"I figured _that_ out. Anyway, I've figured out a few more things. Things like the six towers are building up to planet-pulverizing levels. Things like spatial compression theory and universe-ripping experiments. If Integratia continues this experiment, we'll destroy everything!"

"That is not for us to decide."

"Hell yes, it is." The anger in his voice turned to steel. "If we don't do something, _nothing's_ gonna be left!"

"These experiments will bring Integratia great power."

"What good is it if you can't use it?"

"I won't help you _cripple_ Integratia." Fusia pressed her lips together. "You are _tainted_ if you think I will stand in the way of Integratia's progress."

Sheppard shook his head. "No, you're gonna help, all right, or I'll leave you to Atlantis' justice system. They've got a first-rate, gateless planet lined up for you with no people on it for you to murder. And I don't think you could reconnect in any meaningful way without your implant."

Leaping to her feet, her silver eyes stared at him in horror. "You could not! It is your duty to complete the mission directive!"

"Two words, Fusia. _Eminent Directive_," he reminded. "Well, one word really. Eminent. You don't have a choice."

"You forget. I have been imprinted by the A-ware, and your interpretation is tainted. You _changed_ the directive."

"Because _he_ changed the _threat_." Sheppard snapped at her. "He reacted to your _tactic_—he powered up the temple to stop you!"

"You mean _our_ tactic!" Her chin lifted and she deflated, sitting back down. "I saved them from a nightmare. You can't imagine what horrors were in store for them. Centel was going to steal their implants and use them to integrate the _Puchek!"_ He understood her emphasis on Puchek to mean polluted.

He overlooked the general insult. "Centel? Not Catalyst 24?"

"I knew him. I was his student. The catalysts thought I would be their best agent, but Centel became neurotic."

"Neurotic? Try psychotic," Sheppard corrected dryly.

"Yes, quickly," she agreed. "And paranoid, too. I couldn't get him to leave the Puchek laboratory." She studied the view remembering her confusion. "In his lab, I couldn't access my implant. Nothing worked. I'd been too careful. I was afraid of the A-ware buffer since I knew what it did to Centel. I was also afraid he'd see my A-ware so I carried a contained virus. I suppose I was too obvious trying to get him to leave. He became suspicious and he got violent, so I fled."

Fusia swallowed and met Sheppard's eyes when he nodded in understanding. "The temple splinters. Been there, got the tee shirt."

She nodded. "And as soon as I left the temple, I activated the A-ware—I didn't know what else to do—but Centel wouldn't let me back inside. I needed help and Centel's enablers were panicking. We, my A-ware, decided to cripple him and take the linked back to the gate. I intended to send them back to Integratia while the catalyst hid in the temple and then come back for him. Without them, he wouldn't be able to use the phase crystal or start his new _collective_."

"And if he came after you, you had the surprise 'A' gift. So when he discovered your retreat—"

"He tried to kill me through the link," she finished. "The class C enablers failed first. He had tremendous power."

"And you cut them off."

"The _A-ware_ cut them off!" Her silver eyes flashed. "The_ A-ware_ decided to finish crippling him and saved itself for the moment he came to get me."

Uncomfortably, Sheppard remembered the A-ware's favorite plan of uploading from a dying corpse. He'd almost gotten the tee shirt for that one, too. _A bad plan twice over is still a bad plan._

She dropped her eyes to his feet. "I barely survived. Even you can understand that…_here_." She sensed his disapproval. "I am a Class A Enabler, _John_ _Sheppard_. They were dead the moment Centel took them."

"No," He challenged. "They were dead the moment you decided they were chips."

"I am not responsible under the A-ware's directive!" She abruptly rose and brushed by him, back to the path, where she rounded to confront him. Sheppard turned to follow her and his eyes lifted to the funeral taking place behind her on the hill as the honor guard fired their three-volley salute. The noise hit him on a primal level.

The moment of clarity redirected his anger. He knew why she brought him here and that made him angry, too. He carried the directive. If she was an accessory, he was a murderer.

"If I weren't under eminent directive, I'd be judged harshly for integrating you, John Sheppard. You were tainted even before the buffer virus duplicated my link and the A-ware buffer is known to warp the very best of minds."

"Oh, let me guess. Centel?" Sheppard ripped his attention from the gravesite. _Hear that, Frank? Even she thinks you're warped._

Her pink mouth frowned. "Frank? No one can hear you in here. Anyway, you don't name a _program._ They develop issues._"_

"Well, he's a lying issue."

"Where is…_Frank?"_ Her eyes narrowed, suddenly suspicious that the A-ware could be summoned to his suppressed memory.

"He's busy."

"Maybe he's hiding in the casket?"

John pushed off from the railing and started up the path toward the gravesite as the haunting tones of _Taps_ drifted across the hill. "I haven't been here in a while. Let's find out." His level gaze challenged her to keep up.

Fusia rolled her silver eyes and joined his determined stride. "You can't hide it. You're upset to be here."

"Maybe. But you're avoiding the question and that makes me think _you're_ upset. You said the A-ware buffer did something to Centel and that it warps minds. What are you hiding?"

She shrugged delicately and glanced at him from under her lashes. She took a moment before she replied. "There are two artificial, intelligent, self-aware programs fused into one. Centel created an A-ware to handle the phase crystal. Essentially, it's a buffer designed with a remarkable ability to adapt to the constant flux of the phase while Centel carried it to study on Integratia. Essentially it buffers the host from the effects of the phase. I think it started exerting influence. Whatever happened, Centel's mind became polluted."

John swallowed. "You built a Trojan horse."

Her fleeting puzzled expression cleared with understanding. "Yes. I hid our A-ware viral-protection within a copy of his buffer and gave it priority. Centel didn't know about the upgrade and it would have worked if he left the lab. The buffer would have accepted the copy without realizing the viral protection was there."

"High tech is overrated. Maybe you should have tried beer," Sheppard said flippantly. "I didn't see a urinal in the place."

Fusia frowned. "I think he stayed in the lab because of the subspace interference—the splintering. It had something to do with maintaining the phase crystal. I've had time to think about it. The A-ware probably had full autonomy within his implant while I couldn't access mine at all."

"So you're telling me we're not only dealing with Centel, we're dealing with—let's call him Frank I, 'cause he's already got _issues_."

"Yes." With a breath of anger, she continued, "Centel is insane. He was planning to integrate the _Puchek_ with poached implants. He must be stopped._"_

"He's been a little too busy to harvest that many…" Sheppard abruptly grasped what she'd omitted. "That's why you needed the A-ware viral-protection. You're not worried so much about Centel. You're worried about Frank I!" He caught her arm and pulled her to a stop. "Let's see," he ticked off the points. "Artificial intelligence, self-aware, adaptable, calculates variables, operates on its own mandate, and _duplicating_ into hosts. You got yourself a recipe for a replicator."

She blinked and pressed her lips together.

"I'm guessing you know that though." John nodded and let her arm go. "The A-wares are locked up tight. That's why we're hiding out…_here_. What happens when Frank I gets upgraded with Frank II? Frank II has already duplicated your implant without your permission."

She tossed her silver curl out of her face and raised an eyebrow. "_Your_ A-ware will see _Frank I_ as a virus and eliminate it. It will seize control of the catalyst and return him to Integratia with the phase crystal."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Well, I'm not so sure," Sheppard contradicted. "He's adaptable, he's replicated your implant, he's hijacked me several times and he lies. I don't trust him."

Fusia gave him a long searching look and thoughtfully continued up the slope toward the green tent and black-dressed figures. "You're exhibiting signs of psychosis," she stated firmly as he caught up to her. "Just like Centel before he decided to start his own collective. You aren't functioning with the A-ware correctly. Listen to yourself. You're accusing a _function_ of lying to you, you've separated your functions as personalities, you're talking to yourself, and now you're seriously considering risking Integratia's research."

"Frank, the _function, _couldn't wait until integration. I know him pretty well and if he's based on Frank I, well, let's just say I'm already having separation anxieties here." John rubbed the back of his head furiously. "Look, Frank hijacked me to steal the phase crystal. He didn't wire me for an enabler until after he thoroughly screwed me over and set me up. You said Centel liked the lab and it gave him autonomy. Well, I think the A-ware liked it. He requires autonomy to buffer the phase crystal. That's why he's delegated his primary function to me."

"That's impossible!" She stopped short and stared in horror at him.

"The phase crystal requires constant attention. He adapted. I've been imprinted. I'm better at this than he is. He retired the viral directive." Sheppard shrugged and started walking with her again.

"It must be true. You've talked about changing the mission directive. You couldn't have done that with an active viral directive." She looked at him in alarm. "He can override his own directive!"

"I'm not putting Frank and the phase crystal together with the catalyst. That's a _bad_ plan. We can take them all out _and_ save Integratia by destroying everything—divide and conquer."

She frowned and considered him thoughtfully. "You _are_ behaving like my A-ware virus-protection program. It seeks out threats and eradicates them, unequivocally."

"Fusia, you'll like this plan. You get out of here _and_ you get to take the research home." He cocked his head. "Well, part of the research," he amended.

"And Frank II neutralizes the catalyst while you destroy the lab," she finished his thought aloud.

"I get Frank I and all his _issues_ in one basket case and blow the hell out of it. End of threat one and threat two."

"Is Frank here?" They had arrived under the green tent where Sheppard had a unique perspective of watching himself with the same schooled expression stand with his buddy's wife, when she blamed him so clearly for surviving.

"He's busy." John met his doppelganger's eyes through the crowd and his silver eyes met his own eyes suspiciously. "Let's get out of here. I'll buy you a beer."

Sheppard looked over the rigid rank and file of a military funeral and watched them disappear with a warped shift of flat light. Around him, another virtual world formed into a restaurant bar. He sensed his true surroundings of storage bins in a storage room as the environment changed. He motioned to Fusia to sit at the bar stool and ordered a round of beer for them both while she looked around the bar with interest. He carefully avoided looking at himself as a drone in the dark corner booth while her eyes zeroed in on it.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Here you go," the bartender interrupted with the tall, frozen mugs.

"Put it on my tab." Sheppard accepted the drinks. No one blinked at the illegal high cap forty-five sidearm or the blood on his torn clothes. "All you have to do is keep the link open." John leaned against the bar and took a long drink. "While you're here," he added, pleased with how real the beer tasted. He could get use to this.

Fusia leapt to a logical conclusion. "Who are you planning to integrate?"

•

_Next chapter, _Backup_... _


	26. Backup

**The A-ware** by Fandomatic

•

**Backup**

Integrated Sheppard's transparent world formed around him as see-through crates in an Atlantis storage room. He became acutely aware of a background hum of serenity that faded from his implant as his link with Fusia faded. She could not follow him into the crystal's dimensional plane.

But her survivor's guilt lingered and reflected his own. The eighty-three linked weighed heavily on her mind. He thought he'd banished his guilt long ago, but it had taken very little to hold up the mirror and magnify it.

How could he condemn her for surviving when her death would have ended with the same count, plus one? The eight-three linked were subject to her fate. She'd survived and failed, and had lived long enough to accept her fate with the accusation, _Because you have something more unpleasant for me, John Sheppard?_

_SHE KNOWS. _

"She's in denial." Sheppard left the storage room and began working his way toward the personal quarters.

But his conscience struggled against his duty to destroy the crystal as he approached the civilian quarters. As he had told her, he couldn't allow the three components to become one. The crystal, the catalyst and the A-ware were too dangerous to Integratia. He could handle Frank and the ancient lab. She had agreed to hold the crystal on Puchek while he confronted the catalyst. And if she tried to take it home through the stargate, she'd be lost along with the crystal. It shouldn't matter to him that she schemed to take home the crystal on her own. She wouldn't succeed without the A-ware to harness its power and if he'd misled her, well, it was his duty to destroy the crystal, no matter how much he desired to keep it.

But Fusia had chosen a bitter ground full of betrayal. Why else had she picked the restaurant where the drone's wife had sprung the divorce papers on him?

_YOUR DUTY IS TO ELIMINATE THE THREAT._

Or maybe he unconsciously chose the drone's memory. "She agreed to help. That doesn't make it easier."

The hallways were empty of personnel, except for the occasional midnight prowler. When there was room, John stepped aside to avoid them. He found it a bit unnerving to have people walk through his space.

When he arrived at his target's personal quarters, he hesitated as the world's transparency faded before he queried the door. He put his guilt back in its box and his purpose solidified with his appearance as the door opened.

"John!" Elizabeth took in his ragged appearance and recoiled.

"Elizabeth." He stepped inside, reached out to steady her, and the door closed behind him. Once they were alone, he altered into his true nature.

Her shock turned to horror as she watched his hair turn silver beginning at the scalp and flow like an electric charge to the tips. Her brief struggle disappeared with the tingling hiccup that coursed through her body and connected them as the link opened her world. Her eyes locked onto his silver eyes and froze as the hardware wired itself, extending tendrils into every part of her brain as a link for the ungifted. He supported her weight for a moment as she sagged in his arms and he waited for the implant to finish connecting while he kept her oblivious.

He sensed Fusia's presence as his hub hummed with increased background activity. _You have not blocked her link properly._ She showed him the conduit that gave him seclusion. _A partial block will save her from the intrusion you subjected to me. Severed, it will keep Centel from discovering that you harbor a link. _

With chagrin, he realized the open conduit had allowed her to read his mind. It was the same conduit that had killed the eighty-three Integratians. _Yeah, sorry about that. I've only been down one of these roads._

She ignored his rude reminder of their shared crime. _On Puchek you must operate blind. _

_Just remember the plan. Check in is 0600 Atlantis Standard Time. We're on the clock. Centel's deadline is approximately 0700 hours. _John looked down at Elizabeth Weir, commander of the Atlantis expedition, as her eyelids started to flutter.

"Dr. Weir?" Sheppard felt her take up some of her own weight and he let her regain her feet before he let go. "Elizabeth? Are you all right?"

Dr. Weir reacted to his touch and stumbled backward into her chair with her mind reeling. Her eyes darted from her arm, where he'd been holding her, to his calm, almost normal demeanor. "What…? John?" She blinked at him and stared at his silver hair. Her eyebrows rose and she rubbed her arms self-consciously, recovering enough to realize something smelled suspicious besides her silver-haired colonel. "That's a new look for you. What happened? How'd you get here? What's going on?"

"I'm mounting a rescue operation," he explained seriously.

_Really, John Sheppard, just get on with it._

Elizabeth's eyes widened as the enabler projected her self-image to Sheppard's contrast between the two was as striking as night and day, or rather filth and pure, which struck Weir as completely odd since she had such a high opinion of her military commander. The woman in white floating toward her projected an image of serene confidence, the exact opposite of the pathetic creature in the isolation room. Her long silver hair matched the colonel's and her silver eyes reflected the light along with intention. She imprinted her core on Weir's link without an echo of remorse.

_Now that's the start of a great plan._ And Sheppard grinned as he lunged forward to catch her falling body.

Weir went completely limp and lost consciousness as the implant interrupted her synapses in preparation for temporary integration. When the implant rebooted her brain, Weir straightened in his arms and nodded at her second in command. "Of course. I'll get started right away," Elizabeth heard herself say. Astonished, she watched herself activate her radio and order, "Major Thomas, recall the backup search teams on the traders planet immediately and assemble an ATA gene team to be deployed to Puchek at 0600. We're going in to rescue Dr. McKay and Major Lorne."

•

Integrated Sheppard's working implant hub was soothing. The pulse of communication passing between Weir and Fusia set off gentle vibrations that pacified aggression and rooted him to the tiny community. It eroded any impulse to leave and generated excuses to stay. Since the sensor patch on Atlantis's biometric scanners prevented the personnel from seeing him or Weir, the threat of discovery couldn't drive him away. Sheppard was in no hurry to abandon his new Integratian collective.

The things that drove him earlier were simply put on hold. He didn't hurry to return to his team slogging through the Puchek jungle. They weren't due to reach the village for hours. He didn't worry about McKay or Lorne's capture. They were pawns to manipulate the Lanteans and a deadline to underscore his bait and switch strategy. And he didn't hurry to leave Atlantis even though the crystal was even more volatile than when he'd first taken it. Frank's ability to control the phase crystal had given him confidence. He wasn't in the least troubled that his friends had become chips in a game, or that his attitude reflected Fusia's cold indifference to the linked. He controlled the hunt for the catalyst and the contest centered on him.

His delaying tactics rewarded him with a shower, clean clothes and rest before he gained access to the armory and geared up. He methodically restocked his vest and reflected that at least the power bars would last longer this time. Since the diet from the towers, the implant's thirst for power had abated.

Leaving the peace of connection felt like abandonment, but the directive gave him no choice. Regretfully, he caste for Teyla's link and faded into a transparent membrane world where the linked couldn't follow.

He resisted his desire to alter and feel the full connection with the phase crystal. That was Frank's function, to keep him sane.

The hub faded while his sense of purpose intensified. Impatient to begin the hunt, he concentrated on Teyla's link and his view of the armory room warped into a funhouse of deformed mirrors. A layered village of covered platforms formed around him and he stood next to Teyla in a world composed of clear gelatin.

His teammates sat, tied to wooden stakes, in the center of a village clearing.

Sheppard absorbed the scene with quiet annoyance. The natives heckling them looked decidedly angry and shook spears overhead. Dressed in very little, their leathers covered up just the essentials and exposed most of their skin to the air. The mid-morning heat already had heat waves rising off the packed earth and it fueled the anger of the Puchek.

Ronon Dex's dreadlocks fell over his face pooling the heat on his brow. He glared back beneath the harsh shadows and shook droplets of sweat from his nose. A native foolish enough to get too close got his legs swept out from under him with a casual hook of his left foot.

The man landed on his back with a thud and the Puchek erupted into an angry mob. Warriors with metal-tipped spears quickly inserted them between the Satedan and his unlucky target as his friends pulled him out of reach.

"Do not try that again," warned the elder with the tip at Ronon's throat.

"Then don't get too close," Ronon growled and the elder backed away.

"Ronon." Teyla lifted her head and craned around to see him. "Antagonizing our hosts will not make these bonds any looser."

Sheppard's nostrils flared and his blood stirred with distant emotions as he knelt to get a better view of the blood flowing down the side of her face. Someone had cracked her forehead open and a dark bruise was forming under the welt despite the bleeding. She didn't look nauseous which was a good sign.

"They're not gonna let us go," Ronon glowered and shot her a quick glance. "Are you all right?"

"I am fine, Ronon." Teyla tossed her hair behind her shoulder. The Puchek had stripped her of her tac vest and she wore a sleeveless blue top that revealed bruising on her arms.

Sheppard's clinical assessment took in her condition with a troubled glance and dismissed the other bruises as superficial. The implant leads ignored the trauma at her temple. Her link was pulsing with activity and he traced its progress throughout her brain. The density of the neutronium stood out as solid threads, making the side of her skull slightly more defined than the natives around them. His comparisons pulled his attention back to the elder.

_Except for that guy!_

Instantly, adrenalin shot into his bloodstream as he realized the elder native had an implant pulsing in his temple. "Oh, crap," he muttered and lunged to his feet sweeping the clearing with heightened senses.

Besides the two tied up teammates, his HUD catalogued nine linked natives whose implants were also on standby waiting for an enabler.

Among the linked natives scattered around the village clearing, he fixed on the powerful figure resting on a mat under an open-thatched roof. The raised platform he sat on looked like an elevated dais for a chieftain. His council encircled the platform as the elders gathered to discuss the fate of Teyla Emmagan and Specialist Ronon Dex. The elder that threatened Ronon joined another integrated elder at the platform.

The only possible explanation for the integrated among the Puchek had to be the rogue A-ware establishing his collective. _Fusia was right. _

_LET ME TAKE THEM OUT!_

_You need to stay under wraps._

_YOU MUST ELIMINATE THE THREAT! _

_You're gonna spoil my surprise party for Centel. _

_IF YOUR TEAM IS INFECTED, THIS TACTIC IS OVER._

_They're tied up. They're not part of the collective. No enabler. No link. You're still the party crasher. The party's still on._

His council calmed the residual virus. _THIS COLLECTIVE MUST BE OPERATING BY TOUCH. YOUR TEAM HAS NOT BEEN 'TOUCHED.' _

For these polluted, ungifted A-wares, contact was the only form of communication without an enabler. It disgusted Integrated Sheppard.

_LET'S TERMINATE THEM!_ agreed Frank.

_Patience._

The group around the chief settled in for a meeting of some sort and the tribe gathered around the raised platform close enough to hear the proceedings. Sheppard drifted through them and climbed the platform to get a better view of the clearing and the head man. The open platform had a thatched screen behind the zahn to focus attention on his elevated figure from the clearing.

The zahn of the Puchek sported a chain mail yoke with large silver disks that flashed in the shade when he flexed or moved. Even from within his transparent view, the zahn's dark skin contrasted with the reflective disks and drew attention to his massive shoulders. With his impressive size and muscles, he looked powerful without an inch of extra fat around his six-pack.

"Sixteen warriors were struck down, slaughtered, in the valley of ancestors. Such a crime cannot be condoned by any people," the chieftain's deep voice rose over the crowd. "My deputy found these other worlders hiding near the mutilated bodies. They will answer for these crimes. Where our taboos are broken, the law is clear!" The muscled native rose to an impressive height as his A-ware performed for the unlinked Puchek. "Justice will be met out before dawn of day!"

The Puchek roared in approval.

Disgust tightened his grip on the P90 as he considered killing the linked to protect Frank. But he consciously relaxed his hand, simply because the Puchek wouldn't take kindly to the death of their zahn and eight others. Even the A-ware played to that crowd.

"Should any rise up to speak in their defense or to accuse them, we will not be labeled as savages or brutal fools and refuse to listen."

He would have to rely on subterfuge and that meant adjusting a reinstated viral program to fit a new directive.

"No, a hearing will be held and a summary handed down, but be warned that those found in union with their defense will be awarded the same verdict."

The Puchek roared in approval again.

"Let the examination begin!"

A chaotic clamor of voices broke out as the Puchek grouped in separate bunches and argued over a fitting punishment.

"Wraith-fodder!" an elder growled to John's left. "Teyla Emmagan will pay for her betrayal!"

"No! Give nothing to the Wraith. They were sixteen. These are only two! A forfeit is too little."

"Athosians are liars! Ban them."

"Then gutted alive and staked out on insect beds!"

"Okay," John turned from the group with purpose and approached the lone man on the dais in front of the thatched screen to step behind it. He'd heard enough. He had to do something now and it meant he'd have to alter within the void to redirect the viral program. He had already done it once. He could do it again, but he wouldn't risk insanity in the masses or revealing himself to the catalyst.

Sheppard carefully severed the subspace link and the crystal's heady power beckoned, pulsing just beyond his grasp.

_Just enough void to imprint purpose and connect through the screen,_ he promised himself.

He closed his eyes preparing to savor the rush when the neutronium engulfed his eyes and hair. He was lost as the crystal's flash of energy flushed through his body with an intensity of purpose. His merge with the A-ware eliminated any lingering doubts about the risk of replicating. The rogue program must be eliminated.

When he opened his eyes, his transparent world had turned into a rainbow of colors. His synthetic half extended a conduit through the transparent screen to the chief's implant while he floundered in the power, reveling in it.

_Our purpose is one,_ he embraced his zeal.

Anticipation shuddered through his nerves as he phased into the real world. The sheer joy of finally launching the viral program suffused him with such intense satisfaction that breaking contact with the crystal didn't affect him. Enthusiastically, he duplicated Frank and it launched through the physical link in pursuit of the rogue.

Triumphantly, he sensed the initial acceptance of the Trojan, quickly followed by the outrage of the trapped A-ware as its program disintegrated under Frank's attack. Its rage died into a whine until nothing remained but Frank in control of the zahn of the Puchek.

The rapid-fire feedback from Frank told a story of horror and captivity that justified his elation.

Artificial intelligence did not bring order and peace to the lives of the captive natives. The A-wares had used the Puchek as slaves to harvest Integratia's implants and burn the evidence. While the fires still smoldered, the catalyst returned and slaughtered the warriors at the gate. The A-ware in charge of the Puchek guard linked into the collective through the catalyst to escape while the trapped host experienced the horror of his organs crushing. When the catalyst sealed himself in the temple, the link died, and the A-wares sent out a reconnaissance party to retrieve the last implant. They discovered his team on the scene and took them prisoners to serve as scapegoats.

More importantly, the A-wares were still in possession of the seventy implants they'd harvested for the catalyst.

Sheppard's dark hair returned and the neutronium withdrew as he faded out of sight. The natives hadn't noticed his shadow standing behind their chief.

As the Zahn, Frank immediately rose and approached a second linked native while Sheppard watched his handiwork spread by touch throughout the village from behind the screen.

He observed the zahn's hair grow in density when the zahn altered to launch into another unsuspecting rogue. The silver hair didn't seem to upset any of the unlinked natives. Judging by the mild reaction of vague interest that the silver hair inspired, the natives had seen the A-wares sprout silver hair a few times.

Sheppard beamed.

_THAT WAS GREAT! LET'S DO IT AGAIN.  
_

The two natives turned and approached two more. _It's not like you're not going to get the downloads. Be patient. _

_LET'S GET TO THE RENDEZVOUS._

Colonel Sheppard took the A-ware's advice and retreated through the wall of the zahn's raised lodge across the clearing. He collapsed back into reality and his transparent world congealed into a humid, stagnant interior without the grace of a breeze. John immediately broke out in sweat and wondered why he had even bothered with the shower.

One by one, the Franks entered the zahn's thatched hut and downloaded their separate experiences onto the original, self-terminating in the process. As he reclaimed the hardware from their temples, he asked the freed natives to wait for the zahn.

The men silently lined up around the interior. With haunted eyes, they stared at the colonel's altered state and avoided the eyes of their brothers.

As chief of the Puchek, the zahn returned last. Frank sat down on the center mat, facing Sheppard, and held out a leather pouch. From it, he poured seventy small links about the size of black peppers into Sheppard's hands. The colonel added the other eight to them as the zahn's hair turned silver. The last issue downloaded its experience into the original and the neutronium link reassembled in his hand.

Satiated with fulfillment, he dropped the seventy-ninth link into the sack and smirked. The neutronium faded and left him with his messy dark hair and green eyes.

_There goes the catalyst's backup—into my pocket._

The zahn of the Puchek spoke with somber weight, "Our purpose is one, John Sheppard."

•

_Next chapter, _Ring of Catastrophe_..._


	27. Ring of Catastrophy

**The A-ware** by Fandomatic

•

**Ring of Catastrophe**

Sheppard lifted his eyes to the grateful zahn and nodded. "Here's what's going to happen. My two teammates you've got tied up outside are going to be in charge. They're going to need some warriors, but no one here, freed from the A-ware, can come. Understand?"

Grumbles erupted from the sidelines, but the zahn dipped his head. "Our minds are free. Our purpose is one, John Sheppard. And our purpose is to hunt the demon that took us and murdered our people!"

"If you come, you'll spoil my surprise party, and I'll fail." He looked around at the eight warriors encircling them and added, "You can't talk to anyone about this—especially my teammates—or go anywhere near the temple, or I'll fail. That's how you can help…hunt the demon."

The sour look that crossed the zahn's mouth would have been comical if the size of his shoulders hadn't dwarfed them all. "We mean to have justice."

Sheppard blinked. "You will have justice. My way."

The zahn scowled. "Your justice has no torment and our grievances are many. Sixteen dead with organs of mush!"

"This isn't a competition. He killed eighty-three of my people!"

"Trespassers, every one!"

"You think they had a choice? They were linked!"

The zahn fell silent and slowly conceded with a nod. "Your grievances are vast. If we cannot hunt the demon or render justice, we must have assurance of punishment."

"Unbelievable," Sheppard muttered. He could not ignore Integratia's interests. The catalyst was too valuable to kill outright. "He'll be punished." He rose to his feet. "This…court is over. My team needs food and water and we're due to leave in ten minutes."

Evidently his brief promise was enough because the zahn followed him to the door and nodded at his men to make Sheppard's demands happen. "We want to help, John Sheppard. Follow me and I will put our warriors under your command and have the prisoners released."

The zahn's party marched through the angry crowds back to the covered platform with Sheppard and the zahn in front. The natives parted for them and fell silent as they joined the movement sensing a decision. As John passed the prisoners, he gave his astonished team a brief nod of assurance.

The zahn mounted the dais and motioned for Sheppard to join him and face the Puchek. The head man towered over him and waited for the people to settle down. "A private hearing has taken place in the zahn's lodge and a summary has been handed over. These nine of the Puchek," his wave encompassed the entourage, "declare that the one responsible for this crime is still free!"

When the murmurs and angry voices died down, he laid his hand on Sheppard's shoulder and addressed the crowd. "This man, known to me as John Sheppard, will be known to you as the primary. Primary John Sheppard, you are charged with the task of bringing justice to the sixteen murdered warriors of Puchek. Your voucher elevates the prisoners to deputies and exonerates them of murder, so says the summary. Release the deputies! Assemble the war party!"

John's attention centered on his team staked out and he caught the flash in Ronon's eye. "Maybe it'd be better if I met my deputies in the lodge," he murmured to the zahn. "Privately."

The zahn snorted assent and watched the people release the woman first as the primary retreated back to the lodge. When he passed the new deputies, the primary jerked his chin toward the hut and Teyla nodded before she turned to untie Ronon. The Puchek around them backed up giving them a respectful amount of room.

Sheppard entered the lodge and had only a moment to take a turn around the interior before Teyla burst in.

"Colonel!"

"Teyla." He glanced over at her and forgot to look out for Ronon as his eyes warmed to her presence. Her sleeveless top accentuated her curves and brushed the top of her BDUs revealing a taught belly. She met his amiable manner with a cold glare and he returned her appraisal slightly flustered.

"You infected us with implants," Teyla accused grimly and advanced swiftly into striking distance.

"Sheppard," he heard Ronon growl right before he caught a fleeting glimpse of Specialist Dex's fist as it connected with his jaw.

The raised floor of the hut reached up and slammed into his back, expelling the air from his lungs. Dimly, Sheppard felt Ronon's knees on his arms as he held him down with his gun to his head and demanded, "I want you to take this thing outta me _now_!"

_Crap. They gave him his gun back._

_THE BLOCK GIVES THEM AUTONOMY,_ Frank helpfully supplied and he felt the phase shift slightly.

_I got that. No link. No imprint on the core,_ Sheppard remembered his lost thought. _Great. I have to convince them again._

"_Now_, Sheppard, or whoever you are!"

John inhaled and cleared his throat which Ronon squeezed with a healthy ferocity. "I take it the ARG gun didn't work?" It still came out a squeak. He knew the prototype had been returned to Atlantis.

Ronon and Teyla exchanged vexed glances and the pressure eased on his throat.

"You left it on Unsdia or you didn't think of that?"

Teyla stepped into his line of sight, casually leaned over and unclipped his P90 from his vest. She flipped it and pointed it at him. "The search team returned it to Atlantis before I discovered your…_gift_."

"That's a shame."

"Take it back!" Ronon snarled.

"Can't," he lied. "Look, I need you to help me rescue McKay and Lorne. We're due back at the gate in four hours."

Ronon's eyes narrowed.

"Why do you want us to return to the gate?" Teyla asked.

"If I told you, the hijacker could stop me. Remember, he's a telepath?"

"I saw the mystic remove an implant," Dex growled.

"Mystic?"

"Silver-hair. Creepy eyes. One of your native buddies."

"Must have been dead," John noted easily.

"You're lying!"

"Look, we're teaming up with the Puchek on this. They're going to be under your orders." John looked from Ronon's glare to Teyla's and sighed when the Satedan didn't budge.

But Ronon was shaking his head. "I saw the mark of silver. They're mystics, like you, not to be trusted."

"Trust me, none of them are mystics."

"I just saw nine of them out there!"

"As did I."

"Okay." Sheppard divided his attention between Ronon and Teyla and ended up staring at Teyla. He sighed and tore his eyes from her deciding that Dex was a safer bet. He kept him focused. "Look, the Puchek backup won't be mystics."

"There's no way to check that," Ronon sneered. "And it doesn't change the fact that you can take out the implant and won't."

"I can't," John insisted. "Unless you want to die first."

"You lie." The grip tightened.

"Ronon," Teyla spoke softly.

Sheppard coughed when Dex's grip loosened and he ignored the accusation. "Would you get off me?" John groaned when Ronon looked to Teyla and she shook her head.

"What exactly do you intend to do, Colonel?" Teyla knelt next to his shoulder and glared at him.

"You can't know anything, Teyla." John resolutely met her brown eyes which didn't soften. They already knew too much for his safety, but even knowing that would cause the catalyst to examine their minds too closely. It was time to plant the partial truth, the bait he wanted the catalyst to take. "Okay. We're meeting Atlantis at the gate to coordinate a hostage rescue."

"You're working with Atlantis?" Ronon wasn't buying it.

John hesitated as Frank supplied him with the perfect answer. "Not exactly."

"What…_exactly_?" Teyla nudged him.

"Well, let's just say they wouldn't agree to a swap meet."

"And you do not want them to interfere." Teyla grimly met Ronon's eyes. An understanding passed between them and Dex confiscated his sidearm before he flipped his gun back into his holster at his back. "Do not mistake our cooperation for trust, Colonel." Teyla rose smoothly and waited for him to climb to his feet with the submachine gun pointed at the floor. She stepped into his space and coldly met his green eyes. "I _believe_ you do not want Atlantis to interfere. _That,_ I believe, is the first truth you have spoken."

•

Major Lorne had wrapped a field dressing around his head and dry-swallowed some Tylenol in his new corner. The psycho working with McKay at the consoles didn't allow him to move from the spot where he'd hit his head, which was all right with him since his head throbbed when he moved. But every time the psycho thought McKay was stalling or undermining him, he would threaten Lorne with physical damage and sometimes inflict it if McKay couldn't explain something fast enough. And, seeing as how McKay could out speed-talk a little girl on phone rations, that revealed loads about the state of paranoia in their captor.

The doc was up to something and his furtive posture kept getting them both into trouble. Evan had started feeling like a rubberized ball on the end of a stringed paddle as he watched Dr. McKay placate the beast and return to his covert activities. When Lorne began playing opossum to avoid getting dropped repeatedly on the floor or thrown against the wall, Rodney's agitation and worried glances increased. His distress and lapses of attention brought his effectiveness to standstill a few hours later.

Finally, the catalyst called a halt to the repairs and keyed open a massive hidden trapdoor in the floor. The revealed staircase spiraled around a massive center spike that jutted into what looked like a dungeon without safety rails to block the plunge downward. McKay helped Lorne descend the stairs around the inverse steeple and into a central hall. At the bottom of the chamber, the psycho shoved them into a corner room and bolted a solid wooden door.

McKay dug out his life signs detector while he moved the major to the corner with a blanket pile on the stone floor. The doctor knelt beside him with the blue screen lit up between them. Together, they watched the spiraling life sign until it disappeared and the rumbling noise of the trapdoor filled the chamber.

"He's gone back into the lab." McKay sighed in relief. "Are you all right?" He slid his backpack off his back and uncertainly inspected Lorne's appearance.

"Yeah. Mostly faking it."

"I saw the thumbs-up, but thought you might, uh, be faking that, too." He sat down beside the major still eyeing him doubtfully.

"I'm okay, but what the hell are you up to?" Lorne groaned and leaned back into the wall. "And don't give me any of that crap you gave the silver creep 'cause I took a hell of a beating to give you time to do it!"

"Major, we have to stop this guy!" McKay burst out while he rummaged through his vest pockets until he came up with a power bar. "I mean, we have to stop this guy now! He's a paranoid, schizophrenic, psychotic maniac! And I'm on the brink of a hypoglycemic reaction prior to the launch of a universal cataclysmic event!" Rodney tore open the bar and sank his teeth into it greedily.

Lorne grunted. "I'm a little hungry myself."

"I mean, if these gate towers, or ring towers, do what I think they do, we're toast, and I mean torn asunder, atom-scattering, blackened-to-a-crispy-crisp-in-hell kind of toast! You know, the _inedible_ kind!"

"Okay, you've got my attention." Lorne sat up a little straighter.

"Remember when I said the towers on the six planets form a perfect six-sided grid around Puchek, which the catalyst calls the Ring of Alignment, but that's not quite accurate since it's really a sphere—"

"Doc!"

"Well, 'ring' refers to the ring of the ancestors in this _sphere_ of alignment, which is about six hours from now at the _eleventh_ hour, which will make sense to you in just a minute when I explain M-theory."

"Oh, God, I went to hell," Lorne muttered, closed his eyes and sagged back against the stone wall.

"Exactly. We're talking universe-shattering, big bang here. _The_ Armageddon. _Revelations_!" Rodney bit off another bite and spoke around it. "In our universe, gate addresses are based on six points that describe a destination in a three-dimensional space. These six tower gates describe the destination, Puchek, and are simultaneously aiming all their accumulated power at the destination _through the stargates_. Only, Puchek is not only the destination, but the point of departure."

"What?" Lorne cracked an eyelid.

"This is not an experiment to tap into a dimensional power source, but to punch a hole into the _eleventh_ dimension. If the point of departure and the point of destination are the same, you see the conundrum into dimensions other than space-time—"

"Wait," Lorne rubbed his eyes. "It's impossible to have six wormholes connect through one gate."

"In this dimension or reality, but not in the eleventh dimension."

"_What_ eleventh dimension."

"Hell," McKay answered seriously. "Well, hell for us because it changes things at a sub-atomic level."

Lorne looked at the doctor incredulously. "When I said oh God, I went to hell, I was talking about your lecture."

"Oh." McKay blinked and mentally backed up. "Look, the seventh gate is this ancient lab. It took a while to figure this out since the ring Key is missing. The database mentioned a phase crystal in the center of those spikes upstairs. I think Sheppard took it and the guy upstairs wants it back. The ring key is unique because it exists simultaneously in several dimensions. Are you following, 'cause I'd hate to dumb this down anymore?"

"The colonel stole the ring key," the major gritted through his teeth.

"Yes. And that's actually a good thing because, well, when the stars align, literally, the temple activates the six stargates simultaneously to dial Puchek. Since six wormholes cannot establish simultaneously in our dimension, they jump to the ring key, which _can_ in the dimension that the wormholes occupy anyway. Then the ring towers activate, releasing an enormous amount of energy, compressing our dimensional space and releasing zee star particles through the combined wormholes through the ring key. The compression focuses the six combined wormholes into one helluva wormhole that follows the path of least resistance back into our dimension, opening, ta da, a two-way eleventh dimensional wormhole to the Puchek stargate. The _eleventh_ hour." McKay held up a wagging finger. "And before you say this two-way wormhole is impossible, it is _not_ in the eleventh dimension. Our lower dimension already flows into the eleventh dimension naturally. We won't actually see the wormhole as a wormhole in our dimension at all. It will appear as a rift, torn into the fabric of our universe and bleeding out from the eleventh dimension like an artery, allowing unnatural laws to flow into our dimension, radically changing its sub-atomic structure."

Lorne sighed and relaxed against the wall. "And here I was all _worried_," he commented sarcastically.

"Didn't you hear anything I just said?"

"Yeah. Colonel Sheppard just saved the universe," he summed it up dryly. "And I just got my ass handed to me for a PBS news flash."

"Well, excuse me for caring about punching a hole through the Pegasus Galaxy!"

Evan's eyes snapped to McKay's face. "You didn't _say_ anything about holes in the galaxy!"

"Hello! All that energy has to go somewhere in this dimension if the ring key can't focus! And you can bet Colonel Sheppard is going to bring it with him to bargain for us!"

"How big of a hole are we talking about?"

"A hole is a hole! You want me to take a _SWAG_ at it?"

_A scientific wild-ass guess? _The major blinked. He remembered _that_ cleaned up acronym. "Yes, a scientific, well-applied guess would be nice."

"A galaxy-sized hole!"

•

_Next chapter, _Logistics_..._


	28. Logistics

**The A-ware** by Fandomatic

•

**Logistics**

Major Evan Lorne recovered from his coughing fit with tears streaming down his cheeks. Who would have guessed the scientist had a streak of humor in him, faced with a galaxy-threatening scenario? McKay's hesitant laugh at his grotesque over-simplification of their situation didn't last as long. The physicist found very little humor in becoming part of a 'hole.'

"Major, we have to stop this guy!" McKay repeated.

Evan gave one last snort. "How?" He wiped his eyes and looked over at the scientist with more tolerance in his gaze.

"We have to power down the ring towers—turn them off somehow. The temple controls the synchronization and compression and focuses the energy back to the gate. Without the crystal, even one of the towers connecting to the gate will create a ripple effect here. And we have six towers to turn off! I know you were worried about genocide earlier. Well, this would certainly cause genocide on a massive scale. I'd guess the ring of immediate annihilation would extend—"

"Doc, focus," Lorne chided. "What if we blew the temple?"

"Oh, right." The acid in his voice fairly dripped. "That's the standard military response to everything—blow it up… Although…, in this situation, that just might work. Once the array is disbanded, the gates won't dial, the towers might just overload and only demolish their planets… How much C4 do you have?"

Lorne flipped open a pocket and pulled out a brick. He dug further and produced a detonator.

Rodney deflated. "Oh, great. A suicide bomb. We're so dead."

"What? Not enough?" Lorne fished out a power bar and wished he'd packed another C4 block instead. "What if we tied it into the power source here?"

"The power source, if I haven't made myself clear, is not on this planet. It's on the Ring of Alignment, on six _other_ planets, far, far away. And unless you suddenly become suicidal, that detonator is useless outside the temple, which brings up another point of how exactly we're supposed to overthrow a psychopath with a shield that can pin you to the wall with a wave of his hand!"

The major tore open the bar and bit into it. "Well, maybe we can blast our way out. Get help—"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!" Rodney sat up with a shushing hand and looked toward their prison door. "Sheppard's radio didn't work inside the temple."

"Yeah. So remote detonator—not so remote." Evan swallowed his bite. "So?"

McKay looked up at the vaulted ceiling stones. "Well, technically, we're outside the temple. Underneath, but outside."

Lorne's eyes lifted to the ceiling where he realized the foundation of the temple rested above them with the outer inverted steeple just outside their cell door. "Our radios should work." His eyes met McKay's.

"And psycho silver won't hear it," McKay added as he fumbled to turn on his equipment.

Lorne dropped the forgotten power bar onto his lap and cued his radio. "This is Major Lorne. Is anyone on this channel?"

•

The trail that the Puchek guides followed wrapped around the side of a steep mountain well above the rugged streambed below. The party crested an exposed ridge and the entire ancestor's valley spread out beneath them. Far in the distance, Sheppard could see the stargate and the flat promontory that supported it against the mountainous terrain. Five smoking pyres smoldered and fought to release the black oily pollution into the heavy overcast skies. They were still hours away from the rendezvous and the terrain marked the beginning of their descent into the temple savanna.

Sheppard sparingly sipped a splash of water from his canteen and eyed Ronon ahead of him. Teyla and Ronon had agreed that the colonel would walk between them and be watched at all times. They had not returned his weapons, but he could detect no change in the light tread of the specialist. Dex moved with a panther's grace through the jungle with his leggings soaked to the thigh from brushing against wet leaves. The heavens hadn't spared them from the torrential afternoon downpours, but only a light rain made it to the dark jungle floor. After the rains let up, the oppressive air with humid steam coated them all with dewy rivulets and sweat mixed in.

The weather didn't help the mood that pervaded the Lanteans as they looked on each other with distrust.

For the next half hour, John minded Ronon's every move with the attention a coalminer gave his parakeet as the party descended toward the park below. The fact that John watched Ronon so carefully didn't elude the Satedan, but the reason did. The single file march had led them within the catalyst's arena, inside his sphere of influence if the catalyst cared to leave the sanctuary of his temple.

Ideally, he wanted to skirt the edge, but Catalyst 24's arena included the whole ancestor's valley, the site of the fallen Integratians and the stargate. View exhibit eight-three. But his backup was running a half hour behind the stargate rendezvous and he knew he'd have to abandon the march the moment Fusia gated in.

At the brief static burst in his ear, Sheppard halted in his tracks and glanced back at Teyla behind him to see if she heard it too. She cupped her ear and listened. Ahead, he heard Ronon call a halt to the ten Puchek warriors that accompanied them to the gate.

"This is Teyla. Please repeat that. Your signal is not coming in clearly," She joined Sheppard on the trail and nodded to Ronon coming up behind him. Sheppard unclipped his backpack that Ronon had collected and let it drop to the dirt. He'd noticed that Teyla had recovered her tac vest from the Puchek and wore it over her top.

The burst of static with unintelligible syllables repeated and all three of them listened.

"I think it is Major Lorne." Teyla looked wide-eyed at Ronon.

Sheppard checked his watch automatically and sighed because it was still dead. He brought up his heads up display. It couldn't be the Atlantis team because it was too early. The HUD offered more options. He listened to his instant replay and decided Teyla had pegged it.

"Try again," Ronon urged. "They must have got away."

While Teyla repeated her message, John chewed his lip. If the hostages escaped, it would ruin everything. Impatient with Teyla's method, His eyes lost focus as he called up a filter to clean up the noise. He didn't like what he heard on his playback. If Rodney had enough freedom to boost the power on their two way radio, Lorne must have gotten them clear of the temple. John crossed his arms and thought Lorne wouldn't take too well to being ordered back into the temple. He scowled. _They're gonna draw the catalyst out of his cave._

"What is it?" Teyla had noticed his irritation.

"Nothing." His lips tightened. There was no way the catalyst just let them escape.

The speaker crackled and Lorne's voice broke through. _"This is Major Lorne. Is anyone on this channel?"_

"This is Teyla. Ronon and Colonel Sheppard are here, too."

"_Colonel Sheppard? You found him?"_

John cued his headset and answered. "I've been found. Now what's your situation so we can find you, too?"

"_The situation is that we're hostages, genius!"_ Rodney's voice snapped back. _"No thanks to you and your sticky fingers—"_

"_Colonel,"_ Lorne's calm voice interrupted. _"We're locked in a cellar under the temple structure. We were taken hostage by a nut with a shield. He's got some way of moving objects—"_

"_It's called telekinesis," _Rodney's voice rode over the major's. _"And he's been throwing us around like dolls!"_

"_We're okay,"_ Lorne continued and the team could hear the irritation in his voice. _"He went back into the temple. He wants to trade us for you—"_

"_But you can't let him have it back!"_

"_That's what we wanted to warn you about. You can't bring the ring key anywhere near us. Dr. McKay's been studying the controls and says this temple is set to destroy the universe."_

"_And when he says anywhere near us, I mean nowhere on Puchek—at least until alignment is broken in three more days. I think we can last that long, you know, if we can stop him from using the galaxy as target practice. And then it will be safe to rescue us for at least a couple of thousand years—if we're not dead by then!" _

John blinked and wiped the sweat off his forehead. "Wait a minute. You've been studying the controls? What have you _hostages_ been up to?"

"_I've been helping him power the temple back up."_

"Are you…_nuts_?!" Sheppard's hand went to his chest where the crystal vibrated with life.

"_I've been sabotaging him! Genius here! He would've already been back to full power if I hadn't put a proverbial wrench in his diabolical plans!"_

"Sabotage harder! You know what this means!"

"_You didn't. You actually brought it with you?!"_

"Rodney!" Sometimes the scientist could put his teeth on edge. "That's my currency to get you outta there! I turned out the lights for a reason! This changes…_everything_!" Once again, Catalyst 24 had changed his tactics.

"_Yes. Yes it does."_ Rodney's voice squeaked with abrupt terror._ "And how am I surprised you know that too?"_

"What changes?" Teyla cut in.

Rodney didn't slow down. _"Did I not say nowhere on Puchek?! The ring key is the channel, not the temple! The temple only focuses and controls the towers. If that ring key is on the planet, the simultaneous wormholes are going to channel it, flooding a massive amount of energy into our dimension! We're not just talking target practice, here—think more in terms of Ronon's gun—obliteration! Since we're reshaping the galaxy, I'd call dibs on the Donut Hole, or Crispy Crèmes, but due to my impending hellish demise_—"

"Rodney—"

His voice just rose another notch. _"I'm sure some other civilization will have the honors in another five million years when the fireworks are recorded on their light-sensitive instruments and name it 'O' Galaxy, for oh-my-god-those-idiots-blew-a-hole-in-the-middle—"_

"Rodney!"

"_And I can't believe you'd risk half the galaxy bringing that thing anywhere near here, not to mention Atlantis or the universe! And just as much as I'd like to get away from the psycho, I wouldn't want you to seal my fate with the end of the universe hinging on the deal! Is this even Sheppard I'm talking to?" _

"Just sit tight." John worried his lower lip.

"_Sit tight? This is suppose to be—" _

"I got a plan. We're going to get you out of there." Sheppard's confidence steadied the physicist for a heartbeat. "But it would help if you could keep him blind and sabotage the outside sensors."

"_Oh, right!"_ McKay's incredulous tone fairly melted their ears._ "Is that all? Because maybe you'd like a fruit basket with that order?!" _

"And in the meantime, figure out a way to turn off the dial-in sequence from the ring towers."

"_Way ahead of you there. That's relatively easy if you're not starved, beaten, and locked in a dark dungeon! Did I fail to mention the abused captive part?"_

"We'll go over the highlights _later,_ Rodney. Get to the way-ahead-of-you part!"

"_Got any C4?"_

Sheppard's smile grew. "Now that sounds like a party." What he'd intended to do all along would also work in the short term. He wouldn't have to alter his plan too much—just step up the ring key's departure strategy. "I'll bring a couple of six packs."

While Lorne scheduled fifteen minute check-ins, Rodney interrupted to remind them that their transmissions would end the second they entered the temple. John ended the conversation by pointing out that he'd be looking forward to that since Rodney couldn't sabotage squat from a dungeon. He turned to his team with urgency. "We need to hurry. We'll be joining up with Atlantis at the extraction site. No matter what happens, you have to get there in two hours."

Teyla and Ronon exchanged a look. They both exuded unease. He could tell they did not know whether to trust him entirely, but they were more than half sold. What they had gleaned from his conversation reassured them that their goals coincided for the moment. When Teyla nodded, he knew he'd won.

As they returned to their march, he became acutely conscious of the seventy-nine links clinking together in his vest pocket. He regarded Ronon and Teyla with growing disquiet while the guilt wrapped up in his pocket weighed heavier with every breath. That he even considered such a desperate tactic was a measure of how dangerous the crystal's presence had become. But Ronon and Teyla were his only chips to play and that measured what he'd become.

•

Dr. Carson Beckett, chief medical officer of the Atlantis expedition, fidgeted like a schoolboy in the unfamiliar tactical vest. Having a Baretta M9 strapped to his thigh felt strange and awkward in the midst of medical equipment and their hazardous cargo. His gun continually bumped into the gurney of the mobile isolation unit. The hazmat tent encased the comatose survivor that he helped his medical team push into the jumper bay. The vest and holster with its confining rigs and armor annoyed Carson and he couldn't help but wonder how the colonel avoided running into things. The man made it look as simple as wearing a second skin. Even though he knew on a technical level that it was a learned motor response, he just felt as awkward as if he'd donned a kilt.

As his team approached Jumper Four, he saw Weir give his gear a double take and her expression thinned noticeably. Dr. Beckett motioned them to load the jumper without him and continued on to meet her away from the busy hatch.

"Dr. Beckett?" Her eyebrow rose and she swept over his gear in obvious anger.

"Dr. Weir," Beckett returned evenly.

"We discussed this. You're not going."

"There's no one else, Elizabeth." Carson turned to monitor the loading and his holster bumped into Weir's leg. "Sorry. I've seemed to grow an extra left foot, as they say," he joked uncomfortably.

"Carson, there has to be someone else." Dr. Weir spoke softly. "Do I have to remind you that I'm missing most of my senior staff? Sheppard, Lorne, McKay, and now Ronon and Teyla missed their check in!"

Beckett shook his head and met her eyes kindly. "You wanted ATA gene carriers on this mission and she needs medical supervision. I'm the only one qualified, Elizabeth."

"You're needed here."

Carson searched the eyes that lacked the will to deny him. Her missing staff seemed to suck the marrow out of her backbone. Her cry to use him as a crutch was so out of character he softened his tone. "She's my patient, Elizabeth. I warned you she's not ready for this, but I also realize our deadline is in one hour." Carson squeezed her shoulder. "You know tha' means I _have_ tae go now."

"But was the sedative that necessary?"

"We don't know anything about her but what she's told us."

"True. Those gate addresses didn't lead to her home world, but this also eliminates questioning her," Weir pointed out.

"She has replicator parts in her brain. Yes, it is entirely necessary." Dr. Beckett patted her on the back. "Don't worry. I can wake her within minutes once we're on the planet. She may be able tae contact her people then."

Weir seemed to deflate and nodded. "We have to take the risk. She thinks she can communicate with Sheppard. We need him back before the hijacker's deadline. She has to go. Like she said, we can only send people the hijacker can't read, so if that means you have to go because she has to go…" she trailed off, sounding pathetic.

Beckett tightened his lips. He hadn't bought into the entire story Fusia had spun and he cautioned Elizabeth numerous times on basing her entire rescue operation on the word of a suspect character. Earlier he had to reason with her to keep the patient in isolation. Now, more than ever, they needed his skepticism and expertise on this mission to keep an eye on their prisoner. And he intended to make sure no one else was infected.

"I'll be careful, Elizabeth. We'll do our best," he reassured as Captain Reed walked into the jumper bay, spotted them and headed their way.

"Dr. Weir, we're almost ready to gate out."

"Right on time, Captain." Weir nodded.

"Dr. Beckett," he acknowledged Carson. "Dr. Zelenka was asking for you." Reed jerked a thumb back toward the bay armory.

"Well, then." Beckett nervously adjusted the holster straps again and headed toward the jumper. "Wish me luck."

"Good luck, Carson," he heard Elizabeth say behind him.

Reed's voice followed him. "Dr. Weir, I know we're down two jumpers, but I still recommend a…"

Carson shook his head as he passed the puddle jumper and glanced back at Elizabeth. She seemed more fragile and distracted lately. It brought out the protective gentleman in him. Although she didn't approve of his prisoner transportation methods, he'd persevered and insisted on drugging the enabler. To spare her more distress, he simply stopped burdening her with more details about preventive measures. To be honest, he couldn't have done anything without Zelenka's cooperation, and Dr. Radek Zelenka proved to be a resourceful conspirator when it came to protecting Elizabeth.

Zelenka waited for him at the hall entrance with a small grin plastered under his nervous eyes next to a stack of medical boxes at his feet. Carson's staff was busy loading the boxes into the jumper.

"Radek." Carson nodded.

Zelenka pointedly eyeballed the bulky medical case sitting slightly apart from the others. "Be careful."

Beckett picked up the heavy case and banged the container against his holster. "Bloody gear!" he complained. "Thank you, Radek." He grabbed another case and hauled them into the jumper where he stowed them behind the mesh.

He shooed his staff out and checked the readings from Fusia's monitor. When Reed brushed by, he nodded and moved out of the way for the rest of the ATA gene team. The Captain barked a few terse orders and the crew settled in for gate travel.

"Are you ready back there?" Reed peered back into the back compartment at the three marines and Carson with the gurney.

"Ready as sunshine," Carson muttered as the marines gave the captain the thumbs up.

"Dial the gate," Reed ordered the airman in the copilot's seat. "Dr. Weir, this is Puddle Jumper Four. We're ready to go."

"_Good luck, Captain."_

The jumper lowered into the gate room, lined up for disembarking and smoothly shot through the stargate a minute before 0600 AST.

•

_Next chapter, _Locked and Loaded...


	29. Locked and Loaded

**The A-ware** by Fandomatic

•

**Locked and Loaded **

As soon as Jumper Four soared into the Puchek overcast sky, Beckett was already on his feet pulling out the bulky medical case that Zelenka had packed for him. He set it down on the bench next to him and flicked the latches open. The three marines watched him without a word as he left it there and returned to the monitor mounted over the head of the mobile unit. According to the readings, Fusia was already coming out of her drug-induced sleep. That fact increased his nervousness.

The Air Force captain circled the landing site and fired out a humorless list of planetary conditions. "Listen up. We're about to land on a savanna in the middle of a tropical rainforest. It's 44° Celsius at straight-up noon. It's hot, humid and it's a miracle it isn't raining yet. Forecast calls for afternoon downpours. Stay hydrated and keep your feet dry. Stay alert—the natives are restless and I see smoking debris to stargate north and one at stargate ground zero. Buckle up for a pancake."

Dr. Carson Beckett swallowed and looked nervously at the marines. They perked up at the mention of smoking debris.

Sergeant Sheehan caught his worried eyes. "We're just landing," he explained to the Scotsman.

"Oh. Aye."

"Yeah," Adcock smirked. "Landing in a hot-zone."

"How quaint." Their banter had done nothing for his queasy intestines.

The jolt announced contact with the ground and the marines erupted into a cacophonous motion of checked weapons with assorted clicks. Carson swallowed nervously.

"All right, Doc," Reed called over his shoulder. "We're at the gate site. Time to wake her up. Sergeant Sheehan, teams of two, cover the jumper, the gate and set up a perimeter. Looks clear from the air except for the bonfires." Reed slapped a hand over the hatch control and the humid, sickly stench hit them as the air seals broke contact on the ramp's descent.

Sheehan put a hand to his nose and tried not to wretch. "Crap."

"What the…"

"God, it stinks."

"Sarg, somethin' smells dead."

"Smokishy."

"Is that even a word?"

"Heard the colonel use it."

"You're making that up."

"Scouts honor."

"Dead 'n' burnt—smokishy," another verified.

"Can it." Reed got up and clipped on his P90. "I'm guessing that's the cleanup from the massacre. Doc, hurry up and do your thing. I don't want to stay in the area too long."

"You could can it, all right," a marine muttered on the way out.

The six men deployed out the back hatch without wasted motion and took up positions around the immediate area. Two of them headed off to check out the fire still smoldering off to one side of the gate. Reed joined Beckett in the back next to the plastic tent as he worked at bringing his patient back to consciousness.

"How's she look?"

Beckett glanced at Fusia's fluttering eyelids. "She's coming around." He gestured toward the smoking pile of debris off to the side of the stargate. "Funeral pyres?"

Captain Reed shrugged. "Adcock and Tiernay will check it out."

The doctor stared out at the smoking pyre and frowned. "There were no bodies up here when we picked up Rodney and Teyla."

Reed cued his headset. "Adcock. What have you got?" They both listened as Carson checked the monitor's readings again.

"_Bodies. A dozen or more. Charred." _

"Copy that. Stay alert. We're going to cloak."

Beckett's blue worried eyes rounded and he looked to Reed, but the captain was already headed into the forward cabin to initiate the cloak.

Their craft had landed a good sixty meters from the ancient platform and the mobilized marines covered the area from every angle.

"We're cloaked, just like Dr. Weir ordered." Reed's soft voice near his ear made him jump. Coupled with his sweat glands popping moisture all over his skin, his body overloaded with adrenaline and his nostrils filled with the stench of death, Carson didn't think he could take in much more stimuli and survive without heart failure. This alien world terrified him with its hostile smell and sweltering heat that alternately baked and drowned its occupants.

"Reed to Sheehan."

The lack of a response puzzled the two Lanteans. He could see Sergeant Sheehan standing behind the gate.

"Reed to Sergeant Sheehan. Come in."

"Reed to Tiernay. Come in… Adcock…? Can anybody hear me?" The captain paused a beat and turned to Carson. "Something's not right," he started to say as the sound of the jumper ramp closing interrupted him. "What the hell? Did you do that?" He glanced at Beckett who only shook his head.

Reed shoved by the gurney and rushed the rising ramp that was already halfway up. He tried countering the command with the door controls, but the jumper didn't respond and the hatch hissed shut. The second hiss came from behind as the bulkhead doors started to slide closed between the compartments. Beckett and Reed whirled just in time to see a sweat-stained, mud-splattered Colonel Sheppard wave to them from the forward compartment with a smirk plastered over his face.

"Colonel?" As the closest person to the bulkhead door, Beckett was in front of it in two strides, frantically waving his hand over the control crystals. "Colonel Sheppard! What are you doing? Open the door."

Captain Reed joined him and pounded on the bulkhead. "Open the door, Colonel!" He froze and grabbed Carson's arm to stop him from hitting the door panel. A familiar hum vibrated beneath their feet. The doctor and the captain looked down at the flooring.

"Oh, bugger, we're taking off."

Reed's jaw jumped. "We're still cloaked. Nobody even knows we're leaving." He caught the look in Carson's wide eyes, and added, "Yet. They'll figure it out."

"Oh, brilliant." Beckett's eyes darted around the compartment with the comatose survivor. "What's he doing?"

"We're gettin' hijacked. That's what he's doing!"

"I know that! I mean, why?"

"What do you mean why? How about how? How'd he get by both of us?"

"How should I know?" Carson turned back to the door and raised his voice. "Colonel! It's us. We're here to help you. Come out and let's talk about this!"

The hum of the engines filled the silence between them.

"Colonel Sheppard!"

"He's not coming out," Reed decided and turned toward the supplies netted above the benches. The way he moved so purposefully, Carson expected him to pull out the Jaws of Life from the case instead of the two stunners. The captain offered him one of the guns.

"Wait." Carson darted back to the other bench. "I've got something even better." He flipped open the hefty case and lifted McKay's prototype anti-replicator gun from the self-molding foam. The bulky gun with a large mushroom nose attached to an oversized barrel made it difficult to balance and handle smoothly. A carrying strap looped from the tip to the stock to help support the clumsy tip. A handle welded to the side offered awkward handling. "I had Radak pack this before we left."

"That," Reed grinned and his brown eyes lit up, "is _sweet_." He tossed the extra stunner back onto the jumper seat and admired the doctor's foresight. "Dr. Weir told me they couldn't put together another one in time."

"I talked to Radek. Rodney's came back with the search team."

"That's a helluva cure, doc."

"Do you think it'll work through doors?"

Captain Reed rubbed his chin and studied the back of the jumper with the survivor's gurney in the center. "I don't know, but you can't shoot him while we're in the air."

"I'm not daft!"

"I can see _that_." The pitch of the engines changed and their eyes met in recognition. "We're landing now!" Reed hissed. "Here's the plan. When we're down, shoot him through the door. If it opens, keep shooting."

"Aye. I can do that," Carson nodded and wedged himself behind the bulkhead on the bench while the captain did the same thing across from him. He inserted his hand into the barrel and aimed the ARG uneasily toward the pilot's seat while they waited for the familiar bump of ground. Beckett let out the breath he'd started to hold and swallowed feeling his suddenly dry mouth. Nervously he told himself,_ This is little more than remote surgery. Not quite my usual fair because anyone can do it._ That thought still didn't alleviate the nervous fear that he'd still somehow mess it up. As he waited, the engine hum died with a whine. _Crap! Did we already land? When did we hit the ground? _

"Now! Shoot already!"

Carson grimaced at Reed's impatience and pulled the trigger. The anti-replicator gun let loose an expanding radius of green energy that pulsed outward toward the door and dissipated through it on a wave.

When nothing immediately happened, Reed stepped over to the bulkhead and opened it with his first touch to the controls. The captain held his stunner ready and entered the cab covering every corner and looking for a target. Beckett approached warily, side stepping forward with his gun held awkwardly in front of him. He edged up behind the captain and joined him standing shoulder to shoulder in the empty compartment.

"Where'd he go?" Carson straightened and his weapon sagged to his side in confusion since there was nobody in there to shoot. The floor was clear and the seats empty. There just wasn't any place to hide in the forward compartment.

"I don't—" Reed began.

Carson jerked around at the sound of a Wraith stunner from behind them as Reed toppled to the floor. His startled eyes found the source as Colonel Sheppard stepped into the cabin and grabbed the barrel of the ARG with one hand and twisted inside Carson's defenses putting his body between Carson and the gun. An elbow crashed into his gut and Beckett let go with one thought about protecting his solar plexus.

The air whooshed out of his lungs as he doubled over. Dimly, he was aware of Sheppard telling him he wouldn't need it while he looped the ARG strap over his head to let it hang to one side.

"Or this." Sheppard stepped closer, thumbed off the restraining strap and took Carson's Beretta. "Sit."

"Oh, crap." Beckett caught his breath and gratefully sank into the jump seat.

As he regained the use of his lungs, Carson watched him efficiently break apart his 9mm, check it, reassemble it and tucked it in the small of his back. Beckett's expert eye traveled over Atlantis's chief military officer whose previously black BDUs had sweat stains cutting into the dust stains under a layer of mud stains. The boots were no longer clean but sported mud and dust caked over the haphazard laces. The tac vest had a few green leaf fragments sticking to his back with their natural Velcro fibers in between the dirt spatters. His wet hair stuck out at all angles even more wildly than usual and his canteen rode easily on his belt like it was empty. He looked a bit thin and distinctly feral.

"What are you doing, Colonel?" Carson asked. "You look a mess."

Sheppard snorted and unclipped Reed's P90. "Should've seen my last uniform." He attached the submachine gun to his vest.

Beckett kicked himself for talking to him like _it_ was the colonel. _Whatever he is, Sheppard's not himself anymore and I'd best remember that._ "Fusia told us about the A-ware taking you over. If there's anything left of Colonel Sheppard in there, then you know we could work together to bring your criminal to justice and free our people. We're on the same side here."

Integrated Sheppard glanced up at Beckett as he brought Reed's hands behind his back and zip-tied them. "It's me, Carson, and you're not helping. You're trying to stop me. You tried to kill me."

"No, I didn't!"

"Yes." John pilfered Reed's canteen along with the sidearm and magazines. "You did." He thrust the Beretta into his empty holster and stowed the clips. When he retrieved the stunner, he stood up.

"That gun wouldna killed you. It would've freed you from the A-ware!"

Sheppard's energetic movements paused as he gave Carson a momentary look of irritation before he motioned the doctor to get up. With suppressed annoyance, he pulled Dr. Beckett by his vest into the rear compartment and had him sit down on the bench across from the gurney. The colonel put the stunner down on the opposite bench while he slipped the ARG gun strap over his head.

"Whatever you think, I'm still me, Carson." Carson watched him return the anti-replicator gun to the medical case and latch it with finality. "Think about it. You know what size the implant is." Sheppard tossed the heavy case back up behind the overhanging cargo mesh and faced the doctor with the same aggravated expression. His eyes locked onto Beckett's doubtful face. "It's using a significant portion of my brain to operate, so you can believe me when I tell you that I am one hundred percent certain that if you kill the A-ware, we're all going to die."

_Wee bit of an ego there, John. _"Oh, I doubt—"

"The man I'm chasing is insane, Carson. He's already spread his insanity to over a million people—"

"Mental illness is not catching!"

"It is if you're integrated." Sheppard scowled at him and picked up the stunner. "He's got a special link. His implant mobilizes populations to create…things or ideas or research. Whatever he wants, gets done. And he wants to hurt people, Carson."

_He sure sounds like the colonel… _Dr. Beckett leaned forward. "Fusia said the A-ware assumes control of its host."

Sheppard frowned and his eyes flicked over to the tented gurney beside him. "Hear me out before you make up your mind whether I've been hijacked or not."

"All right. I'll listen."

"The catalyst has found a way to hurt a lot of people besides hers." John crossed his arms casually pointing the stunner pistol away from his captive audience. "Puchek is the site of an ancient experiment to tap into the dimensions. If the catalyst activates the temple in two hours—worst case, the galaxy's inner systems become a giant smoke ring." Sheppard closed in on Beckett and grabbed his vest, hauling him to his feet. "You're going to help me stop the worst case, the hole in the galaxy, from happening." He guided him to Fusia's monitor.

"You didn't have to hijack me for tha'!"

"I seriously doubt Reed would've cooperated."

"For the love… We're here because of you. We brought _her_ tae find you!" Beckett pointed to the enabler. "We're mounting a rescue."

Sheppard snorted. "Well, consider me found. Anyway, I needed Fusia here."

"What's Fusia got tae do with it?"

"Wake her up and find out."

"Aye, well, she _is_ waking up. I already stopped the drip."

John's eyes darted to Fusia's slack expression. "She's too groggy. Give her a stimulant."

"Colonel, it would be best to let her…" Carson started to protest as Sheppard's combat knife didn't wait for compliance and sliced through the side of the isolation tent.

"I hate repeating myself," he growled as he peeled back the plastic side. "She's not infectious. Now give her a damn stimulant!"

"Okay." With a frown, Dr. Beckett turned to his medical kit and efficiently prepared a needle. Sheppard watched him distrustfully, keeping the stunner targeted on him as he worked. After Carson injected the IV line, the colonel visibly relaxed and closed his eyes for a few seconds. "It'll take a few minutes to work," Beckett warned as he tucked the syringe back into the case.

"It's already working," John announced and drifted closer to the side that Beckett had left. Fusia's eyes flew open and she gasped suddenly trying to catch her breath. Tremors traveled over her body as she tilted her head and found John's clinical eyes peering down at her.

"We're cloaked," he murmured. "You're safe here."

"Hid—" Her voice cracked and she swallowed. "Hidden?"

"Yes. It worked. You're hidden and he can't sense us." Sheppard paused. "But you can't stay here. As long as the phase crystal is on Puchek, Integratia is in danger. The crystal is now the threat. If you don't take it off world, it's going to blow a big hole in the galaxy in less than two hours when the ring towers dial in. Integratia is within the blast radius."

Her blue eyes widened with dread and darted over to Beckett, who had joined Sheppard at her side when he heard her voice. She closed her eyes for a moment and her voice became stronger, but the trembling continued in her lifeless limbs. "He changed tactics again?"

"No. This is a consequence of screwing around with technology we don't fully understand!" The vehemence in his voice alarmed Carson.

She matched his intensity. "And you would destroy it!"

"Yes," John instantly snapped. "I would destroy it before it destroyed me. _That_ is an acceptable loss."

She struggled to rise and found herself unable to make her muscles comply. "At what cost? You would destroy years of research!"

Sheppard's lips compressed. "I don't have time to argue about this. Are you ready?"

Silently they considered each other and she nodded hesitantly. "You depleted my implant. I'll need more material to stabilize the crystal."

"Way ahead of you. I brought lunch." John calmly reached over to place his stunner in her opposite hand and curled her fingers around the butt. Then he dug into his vest pocket and pulled out the small leather drawstring bag. Spilling four implants into his palm, he pressed them into her other hand. She fingered the pellets and smiled sadly at the death represented in the palm of her hand.

"I can't alter, John Sheppard. You'll have to initiate."

Dr. Beckett interrupted them uneasily. "Wha' exactly are you talking about doing here?" Judging from the conversation, the two knew each other already. Fusia had lied to him and Weir.

Sheppard glanced up at the doctor as he slipped the small bag back in his pocket. "I'm going to fix Fusia's implant so she can stabilize the phase crystal and take it through the stargate."

"Wha' crystal?"

"The one inside me that I took from the temple."

"Bloody hell! How did it get inside you?"

"It's not stable outside the body." Sheppard looked down at the enabler and clasped her hand with the implants between their palms. "Fusia volunteered to hide the crystal with the cloak and bring the ordnance to blow the temple. After I give her the crystal, you're gonna fly her through the gate."

"And then wha'? You're going tae blow up the temple?"

"If you have a better plan for going up against a telekinetic with an ancient shield bent on galaxy-wide destruction, I'd like to hear it." Sheppard snorted when he didn't answer. "I've got one thing going for me. He doesn't know I'm coming. He wants the crystal so bad that he'll turn off the shield to get it. When the shield goes off, the A-ware uploads, presto, instant lobotomy, I blow the temple, the galaxy's saved."

Beckett's eyes narrowed. _He didn't even mention Lorne or McKay._ And he didn't appear concerned about rescuing them as he stood over the enabler and closed his eyes.

Carson's lips parted and he opened his mouth to object to this plan when the colonel's dark roots turned silver and the untamed hair rapidly grew metallic. Then he opened his eyes. Dumbfounded, the doctor observed that his irises had flooded with the neutronium. An instant later, Fusia's body convulsed as the neutronium flowed into her body.

Her body slumped back into the gurney pad while the neutronium streamed into her blond hair and undulated like a prehensile entity. Her blue eyes faded into silver and she lifted the stunner with a trembling hand and smiled with satisfaction at her mobility. She focused on the Wraith weapon and silver filaments entwined around the gun from her unnatural silver fingernails. Carson's eyes traveled to the colonel's hand and he noticed the same unnatural silver, coating his nails.

In the next instant, he recoiled as he saw a red vibrant shape encased in a mass of filaments emerge from the colonel's chest and slowly extend toward the enabler's breast. The fine neutronium strands sheathed the blood red crystal in a net that he quickly dismissed as containing a heart. A web of silver fibers stretched up from Fusia and slipped around the phase crystal and quickly mimicked the complex paths one by one as Sheppard's strands withdrew. The transfer complete, the silver encased red crystal sank into the survivor's chest.

•

_Next chapter, _Betrayal_..._


	30. Betrayal

**The A-ware** by Fandomatic

•

**Betrayal**

"Holy crap," Beckett breathed.

He watched the enabler tremble as the silver withdrew leaving her blond hair perfectly curled around her face. John's hair reemerged and returned to its natural messy state. She weakly raised the stunner and pointed it at Sheppard.

"Give me the A-ware!"

"I don't think so." Sheppard let go of her hand.

"How am I to control the crystal?"

"You don't." His lips curled in a false smile. "You just hold it." Sheppard turned his back on her and started poking through the cases behind the cargo net.

Her eyes flashed in fury. "You said I could have it!"

"I lied."

"You tricked me."

"I don't trust you _or_ Frank."

Her nostrils flared. "Fine." The stunner shook in her hand from the effort of holding it upright. "Well, I tricked you, too."

Sheppard abruptly stopped his search and turned around. Carson awkwardly stood between them in the narrow space and felt John's hands move him firmly out of the way. He found himself shoved out of the way, forgotten, in front of the gurney monitors. Sheppard's hands were planted on his hips and he coiled like he was waiting for an assault. "Where is it?"

Her blue eyes narrowed. "I didn't bring it."

Astonished, John stared at her with growing horror. "You _what?_"

She smiled triumphantly. "Without the C4, you'll have to adhere to the original plan and leave the temple intact for Integratia's future!"

"You—" Sheppard abruptly cut off his explosion and turned away from his prone antagonist.

"She's been in a drug-induced coma, Colonel. I don't see how she could bring…" Carson trailed off. Sheppard's glaring glance said he wasn't interested as he passed by Carson, headed into the forward compartment.

In four strides the colonel met up with the console of the jumper and turned back scrubbing his hair with a ferocity that would make a bald man shudder. The arsenal of guns and weapons decorating his trashed uniform added to the undertone of violence when he advanced on her, pointing at her with his finger. "There's more than one way to blow up that temple, Fusia!"

"What are you talking about?" She rotated on her side with her forearm supporting her upper body and followed him with her eyes.

"If I was you, I'd get out of the solar system as soon as _possible_!" he spat out. Sheppard shoved by her and slapped the hatch control angrily. "I don't really need the C4." John announced as the putrid smell of the pyres invaded the filtered interior. "I'll just allow the six ring towers to complete the dial-in sequence!" He advanced to her side and sneered down at her. "When the first one connects to the stargate, the power bloom takes out planet Puchek. When the gate fails, the connecting tower overloads and takes out one of the ring planets." He spun back to the hatch that had almost turned into a ramp. "Of course," he spoke over his shoulder from the ramp. "That leaves the other ring towers subject to _catastrophic_ overload." He twisted to face off with her again. "Does seven solar systems sound like a good swap for a case of C4? Kinda has a ring to it—_seven solar systems!_"

The stunner fell against her side and her chin lifted. With her mouth clamped into a bitter line, she fumed at him. "Are eight-three not enough! You are no better, John Sheppard!"

In the following moment of charged turbulence between the two Integratians, Beckett's jaw had dropped open in horror. Sheppard's unveiled violence completely shocked him. This was not the calm and steady colonel he knew. He watched him pace the ramp with energetic rage and divided his attention between his captives and the jungle. Carson finally caught what held his attention at the edge of the tree line when he noticed movement. A spread out line of natives approached on a path that would lead them past the puddle jumper.

They were led by Teyla and Ronon.

He straightened as hope flared in his heart.

As soon as Sheppard stepped off the ramp and onto the savanna, the party of warriors turned toward him and picked up speed. In a few minutes, Ronon and Teyla were at the jumper and Carson saw Teyla pull Ronon up short. She stepped in front of the big Satedan and fixed the colonel with a fierce look.

"How did you beat us here? And where is this Atlantis backup? I see no soldiers."

"Teyla! Ronon!" Beckett leapt forward toward the back hatch.

"Carson Beckett," Fusia warned and lifted the stunner with the barrel wobbling with her effort to aim at him. Carson halted in mid-stride and raised his hands with an anxious look toward the two Lanteans.

Carson's outburst made Ronon's head snap around. Teyla glanced toward the jumper and she started toward the sound with Ronon in step beside her.

"Is that Dr. Beckett?"

"Sure. He's inside," John said easily and wordlessly ushered them inside the cloaked jumper.

As soon as they passed through the cloak, an odd thing happened to Sheppard's teammates. They stumbled and fell. John had been ready for it and reached out to grab Teyla as she slumped into his arms. Ronon hit the ramp behind them without any support. His eyes fluttered and he dropped, unconscious, against the ramp. Tayla fared no better as her rubber limbs almost slipped through Sheppard's arms.

Dr. Beckett shoved the wavering stunner aside and rushed over to the collapsed Satedan. "What did ye do to them?" His fingers automatically found the strong pulse in Ronon's neck, but Ronon's eyes opened with flecks of silver fading from the brown irises and his hand slapped Carson's away. "Son, you just keeled over—"

"I'm fine," Ronon growled and climbed to his feet.

Beckett realized his mouth hung open but his confusion just escalated as Teyla helped him to his feet with a hand on his arm and pulled him back inside the jumper.

The two moved as if nothing had happened, as if they hadn't just lost muscle tone and suffered an atonic seizure.

"What's going on?" Carson asked as she guided him to the forward cabin and he stepped over Reed's still unconscious body, timidly easing into the co-pilot's chair with his stomach in a tightening knot. Intellectually, he knew, but he didn't want to believe.

"You need to stay here, Dr. Beckett," Teyla spoke distantly.

Her aloof response verified the clinical, detached diagnosis going on in his brain. The brief seizure had disrupted her normal brain's discharge of electrical impulses, resulting in a collapse of communication with the outer limbs. She recovered almost instantly as her implant assumed control. I was the only explanation that fit their dual collapse. This was not Teyla speaking to him anymore than it was Sheppard plotting to destroy seven solar systems.

It became clearly obvious that Sheppard's team had implants. Their mute collaboration confirmed the worst as none of them spoke a word.

From his seat he watched the silent group work efficiently as his ruined isolation gurney was shoved out the back hatch with the monitors and IV poles still attached. It rolled down the ramp and crashed, tipping over, into the grass. Ronon approached him and dragged the captain out of the forward compartment and dumped him in the back on the bench. He left Reed slumped against the bulkhead next to the enabler, who could barely sit up. Then the colonel started passing out his arsenal of weapons to the Puchek who took up defensive positions around the cloaked jumper. Worriedly, he watched the natives surround them through the jumper window.

When the team finished clearing the cargo area, Ronon, Teyla and Fusia joined him in the compartment. Fusia merely cast a glance at Ronon and the big Satedan pulled Beckett from his seat and steered him gently into the pilot's chair. Teyla helped Fusia into his chair and the Lanteans sat down in the jump seats behind them.

"You know," Beckett glanced at Ronon, "he never talked much before," he muttered as Sheppard's boots clomped up the ramp. "Where're we going?"

"I'm not going with you. I've got less than an hour to get to the temple." Sheppard gestured at his team. "Ronon and Teyla are here to make sure you take Fusia through the gate." His attention targeted Fusia. "Just don't forget to leave, Fusia."

She struggled to rise from the chair with an irked expression twisting her lips. "And you should remember to leave _blind_," she snapped pointedly. "I won't forget because I am _not_ a traitor." Her fists clenched.

"I just meant you shouldn't stick around for the fireworks," John redirected, "_with_ me!"

Beckett shook his head realizing the colonel didn't expect to survive. "Well, that's a terrible plan! The Colonel Sheppard I know would never come up with a plan like that." Sheppard gave him an inscrutable glare and spun around leaving Carson's voice trailing after him. "How could you even think of blowing up this planet or even sticking implants in your mate's heads! Not tae mention the other two populated planets! Teyla has friends here. There's an entire settlement out there, for God's sake!"

The Air Force colonel left the jumper and passed by the ring of native warriors on the path into the jungle, bent on a course of unthinkable destruction. Carson's heart sank remembering the first time his back disappeared into the rainforest. _There goes that latitude Dr. Weir is always on about._

"YOU'RE STILL GROUNDED!" Beckett yelled after his backside.

•

Driven to fulfill his purpose, Sheppard jogged along the jungle road toward the Puchek temple. High overhead, the oppressive clouds split the dark world below from the light above and let loose a light spattering of rain. The droplets hitting the tall trees overhead drowned out the sound of the birds and animals below. His muffled tread hit the soft turf as he moved almost silently against the louder cadence of the rain pattering against the leaves. The drops that made it to his black tee shirt under the tac vest promptly rose off his back as steam as he ran toward catastrophe leaving ruin behind.

The single act of turning his back on Dr. Carson Beckett, Specialist Ronon Dex, and Teyla Emmagan and walking past the defense perimeter of natives toward his target was incredibly traumatic for Integrated Sheppard. He could not rationalize the staggering emotion that screamed with rage at himself for setting down this course of utter destruction. Yet he could not slow the speed toward disaster.

There just wasn't enough time. He had a half hour to the hostage deadline plus one hour to the apex and annihilation.

The core dictated his strategy and allowed no quarter for humanity. And his humanity dictated that the core was inherently wrong. The cost was too high. There had to be a better strategy, a last minute blue-light special on the Puchek star cluster, a last minute save for his Lantean friends. The very nature of his dichotomy in a tug-of-war over succeeding at the expense of the unthinkable made his mind reel with guilt.

_When did duty become so cruel? _The physical action of pushing himself harder toward the ancient site was his only course to drown the pain in his heart. Yet the run didn't bring him peace or solace and the punishment he forced on his limbs were automatically countered by the implant.

In the last few hours, his perfect plan had eroded into a free-for-all. He could have saved the Lanteans alongside of saving Integratia. Instead of Atlantis cloaking and hiding the crystal inside the jumper with the ancient gene team, he ended up sacrificing his team to move the crystal off world. Instead of leveling an ancient temple, he was forced to level the Puchek star cluster because Fusia deliberately sabotaged his plan.

Her scheming had left her no choice but to leave. Unaware of its danger, she had intended to reclaim the phase crystal for her people. But the moment she tried to take it home, she, and everything with her, would vanish the instant the crystal hit the event horizon. It was a fitting end for a traitor but the cost was ripping out his heart.

Even if she realized the phase crystal would disperse her atoms into another dimension, Fusia would not risk destroying the galaxy and Integratia. She was dead either way. Given the choice of deaths, she could not help but promote Integratia's welfare just as he could not help but deliberately race toward anguish.

He was driven to hunt the catalyst, to destroy the ring key—whose very existence had spawned a hellish idea—to annihilate the ancient lab that threatened Integratia's future at the cost of everything he loved. The drive overwhelmed any sense of emotion and crushed his tortured protests. The core would not be denied and the struggle was over even before it began.

A raindrop hit his cheek as the leaves overhead began to drop their accumulated water on the flora below. But he ignored the weather along with the pain in his soul. Instead, he focused on the thrill of the hunt and let his anger drive him forward.

When he made the final turn of the road and the squat temple loomed before him, his eyes burned with the hate that consumed him. It no longer exuded the innocence of a toy jack merged with a playing die. His vision fell more in line with Dr. McKay's fatalistic filleting tip on a whip. And this torturous array mocked him.

Swathed in green vines that carelessly caressed the perpendicular steeples, the rain coated the dark gray surface with rivulets of dark stains that mirrored blood in his mind. He saw the stains as the cost of his team that he'd betrayed so easily to duty. The stains brought out the circular stargate design ringing the steeples at their base. The ancient Pandora's box crouched weathered and beaten, obscured from the light with the bounty of nature, ready to spring open like a jack-in-the-box with a giant clown head bobbling overhead.

"I hate clowns," he growled.

This ancient site of Tempus, the exact center of a measured span, was set to reduce space and puncture the universe with the onset of a single crank. And like a bad cosmic joke, turning it on wasn't going to end well.

John no longer felt he could warp his destiny or test Fate as he approached the corner door. His perception of the world had narrowed to this one place and this one event where he would achieve his objective.

The dampening effect of the temple before him was the key. Inside, Centel would be blind without the use of his implant sensors. He would not be able to tell if Sheppard hosted the phase crystal.

Keen to claim the catalyst and bring the hunt to a close, he mounted the foundation in a single bound and advanced on the hidden edge of the door anticipating the fight.

He felt like hitting something.

Frank, silent witness to his internal anger, broke his silence. _THE TEMPLE SPLINTERS._

As he hesitated on the threshold, Sheppard's jaw clenched, frustrated with the delay. "What's your point?"

_I AM THE VIRUS PROTECTION SOFTWARE, DESIGNED TO BUFFER INSANITY FROM THE COLLECTIVE. YOUR PURPOSE WILL DIVERGE FROM MINE._

That gave him pause as he tried to remember what other purpose he had. Ignored, his bitterness resurfaced and his jaw set as the image of Rodney rotated 360 degrees in his mind. _Our purpose is one._

Reassured that they could operate in sync inside the temple, Sheppard chambered a SS190 ball round with enhanced penetration into the barrel of the P90. With a full clip in the submachine gun, he tried to school his eagerness to burst into the temple and took a steadying breath. When he exhaled, he slapped both runes and entered the fatal tunnel, immediately stepping to the side out of the doorway.

•

_Next chapter,_ Rescue_..._


	31. Rescue

**The A-ware** by Fandomatic

•

**Rescue**

As the door split open, retreating into the walls, Sheppard ducked inside to the left and instantly spotted Centel turning toward him from the far console. Centel operated in an altered state with silver hair and eyes. Just seeing the hated manifestation of the implant infuriated John beyond reason. He had one purpose in mind and he was going to terminate every last implant he could find and he didn't care who got in the way.

With clarity of vision due to the adrenaline pumping into his bloodstream, he noted Rodney on his left absorbed in the console and just becoming aware of something amiss. Lorne lay against the wall a few meters from the working scientist and he started to lurch to his feet at the colonel's appearance in the doorway.

"Lorne, get him out of here!" Sheppard yelled as he gave Catalyst Centel no opportunity to turn around completely. He unloaded the full clip within seconds of entering the temple. His mouth twisted with frustration at the green glow that surrounded the catalyst and dissipated.

He dropped the empty gun, drew Reed's Beretta M9 and advanced on the insane catalyst firing rapidly. Behind him he sensed Lorne moving. Sheppard's sidearm discharged empty hulls as the rounds hit the shield. The shield flared green around the hijacker's face blinding him to the hostage's retreat. Almost before Centel recovered from his surprise, he had another magazine slapped into place, but the 9mm whipped out of his hand and flew across the room.

In the next instant, his body was flying upward in the opposite direction and he slammed shoulder first into the side of the overhead steeple. Then he plunged ten meters to the tile-patterned floor. He thought he must have bounced, but in between landing and getting pinned to the wall under the cantilevered steeple was a mass of pain.

As the piercing pain narrowed to his shoulder and ebbed, he heard Centel muttering as he paced with rage in front of him. Sheppard lifted his head briefly to sweep the square room for Lorne and McKay, but the two Lanteans had abandoned their stations and must have gotten out the corner door. In the heat of the moment, Lorne had followed his order. Relief flooded through him as he noticed the door was closed again and probably locked against intruders.

Catalyst Centel 24 swept into his line of vision and snarled, "There is no escape for you, _thief_."

Sheppard took in the smooth black Wraith's overcoat with the dangling buckles and the dirty white tunic underneath that almost reached his knees. His soft belly expanded the gaping coat and revealed a pair of brown suede boots covered in stains. The belly grew into a thick neck with smooth baby cheeks and a pug nose peppered with freckles. Around his pinched silver eyes, his neutronium hair framed his sneering face and had invaded his bushy eyebrows. But it was the crazed metallic eyes that held his attention.

He stared upward at him past the point of Sheppard's eyes almost as if he was trying to see through his head and it dawned on John that he was trying to read his mind. With a snarl of frustration, Centel whirled around and stalked back to a console where he accessed a viewing panel suspended above it. The clear screen warped with liquid patterns of color that John recognized as Rodney's screen saver. The program obliterated whatever the catalyst wanted to see, which only frustrated him more.

_That's my Rodney._ Sheppard grimaced and tried to move his arms, but his body was held against the wall with invisible clamps around his legs and arms and his combat boots dangled a good foot above the floor.

The catalyst stalked back and forth a short distance from his new captive, muttering under his breath and throwing suspicious looks toward the drone he'd nailed to the wall like a specimen. After he'd stared at him like a lab rat, he reached a decision and edged closer, still intent on keeping a cushion of space between them.

"You are Sheppard?" His deep voice rumbled and echoed in the enormous hall.

"Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard." John knew what the catalyst feared. He was going to have to convince him to come closer.

"You have tested my patience, Sheppard."

"Yeah, well I didn't throw the first _rock_." John tugged at his arm furiously. He didn't like the look creeping into the psycho's eyes.

"No, you stole it!" Hate twisted his face and he stepped closer looking up at him like a restrained pit bull. "Where is my _crystal_?" he snarled.

When Sheppard didn't answer, the catalyst raised his hand like a silver-nailed claw. John struggled harder but his arms wouldn't budge off the wall. _Oh crap, this is the part that hurts._ Abruptly, he was loose and hurtling toward the steeple above him. He slammed into it head first and his vision blurred as the mad man threw him across the room toward the wall. John barely got his arm up in time to cushion his crash. His shoulder wrenched out of place and he screamed with agony. He slid to the floor with his left arm dangling uselessly at his side.

Breathing through the pain, he covered the movement of his right hand with the slow crumple to the floor as he twisted protectively around the useless limb. His fingers curled around the butt of the combat knife and he slipped it from the sheath, covering the sound with a moan. This was going to be a hard sell and he hated giving the catalyst any creative help.

Centel pursued him across the room and loomed over him. "Where is the crystal?!" he thundered.

John lifted his head and tried to focus on the catalyst. "You mean this?" He started the throw from behind his back and the combat blade whipped around and flung in a perfect flick toward Centel's center, or, more accurately, where he thought Centel's center was. The green glow of the shield flared where it bounced off and clattered to the floor. It didn't matter that his throw was perfect.

Immediately, Catalyst Centel waved his hand and plucked him up and shoved him against the wall. The man giggled, his laugh pitched an octave higher than his voice and the knife rose menacingly from the floor.

_Crap. That's what I thought the creep would do. _John watched the knife levitating in front of his vest and his vision sharpened as his pains eased. His nostrils flared as he realized what that meant and he focused past the knife to the catalyst. Centel had closed in and the A-ware was getting ready for contact. He'd bought the act of desperation and the A-ware was flushing to the surface.

"You don't seem to realize your place." The silver eyes bore into his and he leaned forward, inches from Sheppard. His breath stirred the air between them and his eyebrows drew together. "I could crush you into oblivion with a thought. Now, where is my offering?"

John gritted his teeth. "Don't know what you're talking about." It was time for the swap meet.

"The Ring Key! You had her on Tresdia. I _heard_ her call! You took her from this room and her voice, no longer mute, screamed for me!" The knife hovered and pricked under his chin.

"Uh, right…" _That's creepy._ He moved his head back from the point and the tip followed.

Centel stepped back and pointed a finger at him. "You stole the phase crystal!" his bass boomed through the room echoing off of the ceiling.

"Oh, that." _Time to goad him. _"Maybe she doesn't want you any more."

Centel's reaction was instantaneous. His face flushed and he inhaled sharply. "Ha! You do have her!" His silver eyes practically glowed with anticipation as he closed the gap and hovered intimately invading his space again. The knife pressed against his chin and the skin broke over it releasing a well of blood that coursed down the blade. "I know my crystal's temptations, the lure of power, the sense of invincibility, the lust of strength. But you should never have heeded her siren's call because once she has you, she never lets go."

He remembered the superman syndrome and his eyes narrowed. Suddenly the insane man was making too much sense.

Centel crooned on, "Her isolation fills her with emptiness and drowns those that come near her with the desire to embrace her freedom." He drew back a few inches to watch his blade press upward into the blood flowing from John's throat. "For this defilement, you will die. Only I can harness her full power and satisfy her desire."

The crystal had been overlooked by the extensive A-ware files, overlooked or classified higher than his ranking. But Sheppard was use to working in the dark. "Then she'll die with me!" John bit out with as little movement as possible.

"You are nothing but a _drone_, barely capable of hearing her call!" The catalyst drew the knife away from his throat with his mind and his focus switched to Sheppard's chest. "That you could not satisfy her, will be your own personal torment. _That_ is why she brought you back to me, the master's master. Only I can fulfill her destiny!" His hand reached out, still with a cushion of half a meter between them and John's tac vest zipper slid open by itself. "If you do not let her go, I will rip her out of your chest myself." The knife split open his soaked black tee shirt from the crew neck in one slice downward. The cold air from the room hit his chest and he flinched backward against the wall.

_Oh crap. Remote and creepy isn't good._ "She likes me better… You locked her away." His defiant glare was met with a jerk on his arms and legs and Centel forced him to his knees. John gritted his teeth against the pain in his dislocated shoulder as he was held immobile. The pain eased as the flush gathered behind his eyes.

The Catalyst's right hand raised like the feeding hand of the Wraith, and Sheppard felt the familiar prickle as the A-ware stirred within him. "She shall not be alone again! I will integrate the entire universe with her power and everyone will know me as the master's master!" Centel's hand plunged downward and connected with John's chest where the blood was starting to pool.

_Bingo! _

This time there was no extra sensory information to absorb as the neutronium drowned his green eyes and black hair. There was no unity of purpose in their thoughts or movements. There was just John and a terrified Centel connected with hand to chest and a web of neutronium flowing through their bodies as the viral A-ware unfolded into Centel's link.

_PUSH HIM OUT THE DOOR!_ John felt the bindings that held him motionless dissipate. Somehow, Frank had isolated Centel's kinetic abilities and blocked the agony in his shoulder.

He lunged past the hand on his chest with the intention of slamming a fist into the man's chin. His knuckles connected with a solid, satisfying punch that knocked Centel backward. He followed him, grabbed his wrist one-handed and twisted the catalyst's arm behind his back.

_STAY CONNECTED! _Frank practically yelled at him frantically. _I NEED POWER! _

_I've only got one arm!_

As Sheppard maneuvered the insane catalyst toward the corner with his arm twisted behind him, a web of neutronium conduits filled the space between them. Centel started to fight back as they neared the corner. John shoved him against the door and held him there with his bad shoulder as he punched a few softening blows into the catalyst's kidneys.

_Come on! Open up already!_

_I'M WORKING ON IT. _

_Oh crap._ Centel twisted wildly, using his mass to lever Sheppard toward the opposing wall and slammed into his hurt shoulder. John screamed and grabbed the catalyst's around the arm, holding on to him with single-minded determination. Centel was going for another body slam onto the other wall when the corner slid open and turned into a doorway. Sheppard hit the wall and turned his momentum against Centel, propelling him over the threshold past two shocked ex-hostages working over some door controls in the rain.

Surprised, Lorne and Rodney watched Sheppard tumble and fall on top of the catalyst in a rolling mass of neutronium conduits. A scream ripped from his throat as his shoulder hit Centel and the two rolled off the wet foundation platform to land in a tangled heap at its base in the mud.

Instantly the fight went out of the catalyst as Frank took over his brain. The A-ware performed efficiently, keeping him isolated from Centel's insane mind as the silver filaments snaked between them. Integrated Sheppard struggled to untangle himself and knelt over his defeated target with a triumphant grin plastered on his face as the neutronium drained from his eyes and hair. The storm clouds above the small clearing over the temple showered them with steady raindrops. Like the rain overhead, the silver didn't stop draining and continued to follow the A-ware into Centel. As he felt his elation slip away with his victory stolen by Frank, the joy turned into alarm as his pain returned.

"No!" he roared at Frank as his link drew off into the Catalyst against his will just as it had happened when Fusia lost it to him.

Once again, Frank didn't heed his command. John's loss was not its loss. Its central command perceived his used body as waste to be discarded on its quest. It finished sucking all traces of the link from his brain and abandoned him for the fulfillment of its quest and the greater resources represented in the catalyst.

John Sheppard's sense of horror for the A-ware's final betrayal turned to utter revulsion for his own culpability as the A-ware severed the final connection.

"You bastard!" With a cry of anguish, he dropped a right forward elbow strike toward Frank's throat. The crushing blow seized up in mid-swing as Frank invoked his control over Centel's kinetic abilities and simply stopped him cold in midair.

John screamed in agony from the sudden pressure that immobilized him. Without the implant to block the pain, he felt completely impotent against his creation and his pain focused his bitterness. He'd created a monster with a mission to blow up the Puchek star cluster. _To level a building!_

"You fucking _Frankenstein!_"

Sheppard's stationary position reversed as the A-ware returned him back into balance on his knees. The bond eased on his shoulder relieving the intense pain, but Frank didn't let him go entirely. John only had to lift his eyes toward the temple to see Lorne frozen in action in the rain, raising a P90 toward them. Instinctively he knew that Lorne grabbed his empty submachine gun on the way out the door. It had been the reason he dropped it.

Rodney had more mobility. He gave John a lame smile and wave from his crouched position by the temple corner. He held his computer tablet in his hand and the wires connected to an open service panel next to the closed door. The scientist's back was already soaked through and his hair was plastered against his scalp.

Sheppard lowered his eyes back to the catalyst as Frank sat up carefully and met his anger with his peaceful silver irises. His calm, analytical mind considered his ex-host. "You can do nothing to stop me. You may leave with your men."

John knew there was nothing he could say that could dissuade the A-ware from his path. _Hell, a minute ago, that was me._ And he remembered leaving his friends to the fate of the enabler. The rage boiled inside of him. "You're _dead,"_ Sheppard hissed.

"Yes," Frank agreed.

Sheppard glared at his external Frankenstein and blinked, grasping that the A-ware's drive to terminate itself came from his knowledge of replicators. In a way, he had already killed it, but not before it would achieve massive demolition. And as the catalyst, the A-ware was undefeatable. _What have I done?_

Sheppard's shoulders slumped in defeat and he gritted his teeth against the pain. With the drive gone, his condition crashed in on him. He was tired, hungry, thirsty, dirty, soaked through the vest with sweat, sitting in the mud, and he had sacrificed his team to Fusia's fate. He closed his eyes and his jaw clenched. 

_No, the A-ware did that. That was not me!_

Despite his logical reasoning to separate himself from the A-ware's actions, he was there again in Arlington with the white rows of marching gravestones. Frank knew his struggle intimately just as he knew the A-ware's uncompromising drive. Sheppard's eyes burned with an impotent fire of promises to keep which Frank recognized as his only acknowledgment of the catalyst's authority.

With an uneasy truce recognized between them, the bonds disappeared and John lurched up to sit down on the temple foundation with his back to Lorne and Rodney. He didn't think he could face them yet. The endorphins were wearing off and his shoulder was a pool of agony. He cradled the arm against his exposed waist and noticed his hands were shaking and that pissed him off.

"I have returned your John Sheppard to you," Frank announced to the former captives and then nodded toward Sheppard's shoulder. "Have your men stand down and they can help you."

"Don't _even_ pretend you care!" John snapped heatedly. He wasn't sure Lorne would follow his orders anyway and he didn't much care if he did or didn't. He was beyond pretense. He'd had his fill of the lies Frank had spun to gain his objective. Even the bargain to rescue his men had smacked of compromise, but he owed it to them to finish it. At five meters distance, they could hear everything he said and Lorne was already positioned. There was no sense in wasting munitions, but he half hoped Major Lorne would try. "Stand down, Lorne."

"Yes, sir."

"Really? Just like that?"

McKay's voice shattered his train of thought and he almost laughed out loud. He recognized the beginnings of hysteria. His relief from finally separating from the link and regaining his privacy threatened to overwhelm him with guilt for a feeling of peace. His battle with foreign morality was over. His allegiance was now his own choice. The link was gone and he was free.

"You're going to take his orders?" Rodney's voice advanced toward him and John opened his eyes. It was definitely good to hear the list of complaints from McKay. "How do you even know its Sheppard? The viral program could still be in him! I mean, this is one situation that you could actually call FUBAR, because we can't really _recognize_ anyone!"

"Shut up, McKay." Lorne had followed the doctor off the foundation ledge with his weapon ready. The major watched his former tormentor with nervous suspicion but spared an assessing look for his superior. Evan's slight heft of the P90 with the barest of nods told him he knew who to thank for the weapon and their freedom. "Are you all right, sir?"

John snorted and looked away. Lorne's beaten face and bruises looked worse than his. "I dislocated my shoulder." He focused on Frank who rose to his feet across from them. The silver hair was a bitter reminder of what he hated. _Anger is better. I can deal with anger._

"What just happened?" McKay demanded. "Is psycho silver on our side now? Was this your plan? He-He's not going to infect us, is he?" Rodney stepped backward away from Frank and held up the computer tablet defensively. Sparing him an exasperated look, Lorne clipped his P90 back in place on his vest and approached the colonel.

Lorne knelt in front of him and gently grasped his elbow and forearm. "This is gonna hurt. Try and relax."

John blinked and refused to look at them. He focused on his anger because thinking about what he'd sacrificed hurt too much. The shaking was bad enough. He tried to relax his muscles but the spasms were getting worse as Evan slowly rotated his forearm toward his side. He glared at Frank and gritted his teeth. "Tell them, Frank."

"That's an earth name! You named it?" McKay stood next to him and still regarded his team leader with wariness.

The catalyst's deep voice addressed them without emotion. "I am the A-ware, an AI software program sent to reacquire Catalyst 24 and stop him from rejoining with Integratia. I used John Sheppard to reacquire the catalyst and to destroy the Ring Key. Now, Catalyst 24 will complete my mission."

"And that mission is…?" Rodney prompted.

"To destroy this site."

"Oh, well, I can help you with that—"

Sheppard's harsh bark of laughter broke off abruptly as his shoulder slid back into place. The instant relief from pain pushed the A-ware's absurd understatement to the background. He massaged his shoulder and found his anger rising again. "When he says site, he means the whole star cluster, Rodney!"

"Wh-What happened to the C4 party? You know, the-the six-pack thing?" McKay looked between the colonel and the catalyst.

"We were betrayed," The A-ware stated simply.

"He means it turned into a Mongolian cluster!" Sheppard growled as he rose to his feet and zipped up his tac vest over the torn tee shirt and congealed blood. His jaw jumped as he considered the A-ware one more time and puzzled over why it would let them go. Granted, the A-ware was suicidal, but it had to know he would do everything he could to level the temple before the gates dialed in. And he understood suddenly that blowing up the star cluster was a last resort. If he managed to level the building, that was acceptable to the AI.

With determination, he was ready to move on. "I'll fill you in on the way back to the gate. We have an hour before the planet goes."

"But we have to turn off the temple!" Dr. McKay protested. Sheppard grimaced and pulled him along with him away from the catalyst and down the road. "You're giving up? You're not going to try and talk him out of this? You know what will happen here if one of the gates connect? I mean, you came here to stop him from doing that, right?! And you took care of the ring key, didn't you? You sent it off world? Because I would hate to think what would happen if you didn't and we left the temple up and running!"

"Yes! I took care of it!" John practically hissed at Rodney. "I came here to rescue you." Sheppard glanced behind him and made sure Frank wasn't following them. "It wouldn't be much of a rescue if we just blew up later, would it?" Lorne followed his look and questioned the colonel with his eyes as he kept in step, but Sheppard didn't say anything else as they approached the first bend.

"Sheppard? Are you sure the implant is gone because this doesn't sound like much of a plan. There are people living on these planets!"

"I know that, Rodney!" John snapped and guided Rodney around the first curve. "But Frank is not going to let us back in the temple."

"But we have to stop him!"

"Rodney, I barely have enough time to get you back to the gate!"

McKay's head came up and he frowned. "Oh, that's somewhat clever, but it won't work! You think dialing out first will stop the sequence, but the temple has an override that sucks the power from the gate buffer and reboots all the gates just before initiation. Atlantis would have to dial in at the exact moment before all the other gates dial in."

Sheppard's head came up with surprise and he looked at Rodney with dawning hope.

"I mean, you thought of that, right?" Rodney's eyes widened with horror. "You're not gonna blow up the gate, are you?! That's a terrible idea! You're choosing here between planetary demolition or world-wide sterilization!"

John looked at him incredulously. "If I thought of it, he wouldn't have let us go!"

"Oh." Rodney swirled his finger around his temple. "Okay, that's a little weird. You're sure it's gone? No lingering desires to, er, duplicate? Invade? Reproduce? I don't know…infect the universe?"

Sheppard ignored the list of worries. "Is it possible to dial in a moment before the other gates dial in?"

"It's a slim chance. I've got the countdown running on my tablet and I'd have to initiate the dial up by computer. We're talking about less than a second after the power flow reverses."

"Well how slim is slim?"

"I don't know. Slim!"

"Can you give me a number?"

"There you go with the absolutes again! This is not a sure thing!"

"Well, how _sure_ is _slim_?"

"Less than half sure, but better than one in seven! Look, the timing is critical. Too early and the gate won't engage because the override is still drawing power from the gate buffer."

"That sounds like a plan. That's better odds than they've got if we don't try." Sheppard nodded grimly. "He's definitely not thinking straight. I mean, I wasn't thinking straight… I was so focused on getting to Catalyst 24 that everything else just…" John drew in a steadying breath and stopped talking.

"What?" Lorne prompted suspiciously.

For a moment, he couldn't find the words to tell them what he'd done. _No, it was the A-ware!_ John swallowed his guilt and plunged in. "The A-ware…used our backup to destroy the phase crystal. He…sent Beckett, Reed, Ronon and Teyla through the gate with Fusia and the ring key." His jaw clenched. He had sent them without warning, without trust, and without choice. He had to believe the AI was responsible, but he did it. He clearly remembered making the decision to save Integratia from galactic disaster. _Twisted._

He avoided their puzzled looks.

"I don't understand," Rodney finally confessed.

His voice was carefully neutral as he shared the painful news. "They were in a jumper, Rodney. They're all dead."

•

_Next chapter, _Nuts_..._


	32. Nuts

**The A-ware** by Fandomatic

•

**Nuts**

"Integratia's welfare will _not_ hinge on my _death_, John Sheppard!" Fusia's furious voice vowed to the Lanteans within Jumper Four. She rose and stared with animosity toward her rival that moved purposely toward his goal and had left her with nothing but her life to offer her world—a life that was worth more than what the A-ware credited it.

"What?!" Beckett jerked his eyes off Colonel Sheppard's dwindling backside and up to the survivor who was looking stronger with every breath.

Fusia looked at him with a measure of pity. "My _pet_ has designed a fitting end for us. When I pass through the ring of ancestors, the crystal will resonate beyond binding and pull us into another dimension, never to emerge."

"He's sending us to our _death_?!" Carson's astonished eyes re-evaluated the black form that the edge of the jungle swallowed without a trace.

"Death is too final. This end would be limbo." Fusia's face pinched with anger, "Integratia will be destroyed in the cataclysmic event of our ruptured galaxy if the phase crystal remains here. But there is more than one exit!"

"That's not Colonel Sheppard." The doctor spoke with conviction. "He'd never consign us tae death _or_ limbo."

"No," she agreed. "That is the A-ware viral core on a tainted mission."

"You mean corrupt?"

"Another word for damaged." Fusia spoke bitterly. "He's paranoid. John Sheppard never intended the crystal to survive. He tricked me into taking it so he could end the threat forever." A tear coursed down her cheek. "It is my punishment for my part in our murder of eighty-three innocent Integratians. He intends to end the threat of his own existence in the temple explosion."

Beckett looked at her in horror. "How can you know that?"

"I am a _very_ talented telepath and he did not bother to blind me through Ronon and Teyla. He condemns his linked," she continued heatedly and gestured at Ronon and Teyla sitting peacefully in the jump seats, "because they know enough that it threatens the outcome of his mission." Her eyes settled on Beckett. "And you? Well, you're doomed simply because you have the ancestor's gene and the means to hide us until we expire through the ring."

It wasn't the first time Beckett wished he'd never had the ancestor gene. "Look, there's no need tae kill us all! If you're worried about keeping secrets, Ronon and Teyla can just leave through the stargate."

"They are here to keep you in line," She snapped. "But he's miscalculated. There is another exit, the crystal's path through the dimensions to the home world."

"You can do that? Travel through a dimension to another planet?"

"How do you think John Sheppard moved about so freely within your ship? He used the crystal." She looked around the cockpit. "Turn off the cloak. If I can return to Integratia, you will be free to do as you will."

Stunned, he turned back to the jumper controls and carefully put his hand over the cloaking control and concentrated on turning it off. Sheppard always made it look so easy.

He nodded to Fusia and watched, fascinated, as she stood with the silver invading her hair and eyes. She closed her eyes and concentrated with a furrowed brow. Suddenly, her mouth and eyes opened and she inhaled with an indrawn gasp as if she couldn't take in enough air. Fusia's lungs strained to extract another inch from her filled chest and her eyes bulged with the effort. As she struggled to gain another ounce, her body faded in and out like a ghost. In her transparent state, he could see the bulkhead through her outline. With her corporeal body in such a flux, he was afraid to touch her and be caught between the phases. When she stabilized in front of him, her eyelids fluttered and she wrapped her arms around herself and moaned out an enormous breath in misery.

"Ah… That can't be good," Carson muttered and half rose from hovering on her peripheral and reached out to steady her. She recoiled violently with her silver eyes wild.

"Don't touch me!" Fusia screamed. "I had it! I was there! I was everywhere! I was _free_!" She hurtled toward the bulkhead door in her bare feet and white scrubs with a trembling energy that she'd lacked before. The enabler stumbled between her linked charges and tears leaked from three sets of eyes as her feet padded through the rear compartment. Ronon giggled and his hulking form lurched to his feet while Teyla held her head and curled into a fetal ball. "Home! I will not be _denied_ again!" And the enabler stumbled toward the jungle road weaving wildly and unsteadily after the colonel.

Beckett lost sight of her when Ronon towered between them and grabbed him around the neck with a cry of rage. His long dreadlocks fell around Carson's vision as the huge Satedan slammed him back against the console and gripped his neck with a crushing strength.

Dr. Beckett's vision swam and faded as his detached clinical brain wondered why everyone had gone suddenly insane. It had happened the moment Fusia tried to connect with the weird red crystal and slide into another dimension. He suspected the human brain wasn't meant to take such a sensory overload.

He remembered telling Colonel Sheppard that mental illness was not catching. Too late, he revised his opinion.

As his senses faded, his hand fell from Ronon's wrist and hit the controls. His eyes bulged as he remembered Teyla and Ronon had passed through the cloak and suffered seizures. His frantic thoughts focused on turning on the cloak as he slapped around on the control panel, trying to activate it. But Ronon's snarling face to face encounter distracted him—especially when his brown eyes started filling with the silver neutronium.

A moment later Teyla pulled the crazed runner off of him and sent her teammate spinning against the side of the cabin. Beckett flipped over and gasped for air as he pressed both hands down over the control console and concentrated with controlled panic. He felt the cloak activate and sighed with relief, but the thumps and bangs didn't stop.

_Holy crap._ Wide-eyed, Carson turned to see Ronon's silver dreadlocks fly past his chest as Teyla levered him into the wall and planted a flying kick to his side. Her silver hair flew behind her as she dropped a knee downward. Ronon grabbed her leg on the way down and flipped her into the wall. While they grappled for holds, Beckett scurried past them and slapped the bulkhead door controls. The door slid shut with a hiss. He gulped and stumbled hurriedly toward the back hatch and closed it as the entire jumper vibrated with another Ronon body slam.

"Oh, God," Carson muttered and lunged past Captain Reed, who was still out cold.

He pulled the medical case back down and opened it with nervous hands. "Just a wee remote procedure," he told himself as he hefted the prototype anti-implant gun in his grip and slipped the strap over his head. Beckett took up his position next to the door and hit the bulkhead controls. When the door parted open with a hiss, he saw Ronon and Teyla throwing blocks and punches so fast at each other that they didn't pay any attention to him. Aiming at Ronon, he pulled the trigger and released a green wave of disruption.

The wave enveloped Ronon's silver hair and eyes and dissipated into his body. Quickly, he followed up and shot Teyla next to him.

The disruption halted their fight instantly. Both warriors dropped out of their fighting stances and whirled to face the new threat. As Ronon whipped around, his silver dreadlocks flung a fine glitter that filled the compartment like floating dust mites. Teyla's hair discharged the silver in an explosive mass of glitter as her locks released all her neutronium at once. She blinked at the dust storm she created and her brown eyes emerged from liquid silver tears. Ronon sneezed violently into his hand and a cloud of silver dust rose off his hair and fingernails.

"Dr. Beckett?" Teyla waved her hand through the floating dust and coughed. She just expelled more silver from her flaking nails.

"Teyla?" Carson peered over the ARG cylinder in relief. "Ronon?"

Ronon sneezed again and another cloud rolled off his shoulders. "We're fine," Ronon choked out. "Are you all right?"

"Aye." Beckett felt his bruised throat and sagged back against the bulkhead. "Thank God you're back."

"Just need a little air," Ronon wheezed and staggered through the door. His need for 'air' filled the rear compartment with a fine mist of silver dust. The blood flowing off a cut cheek collected the bits with a sparkling coating of silver flecks.

Beckett gulped and closed his eyes against the confetti following the runner. "I know the feeling, but tha's the last thing you need, big man. You have tae stay inside the cloak where you're hidden. When Colonel Sheppard was here—or the AI—he told me wha' he was up to. We have tae beat Fusia to the temple."

Teyla followed the cloud of silver and touched Carson's arm. "Thank you, Dr. Beckett. The gun worked beautifully." She had several welts rising on her face with the beginnings of a black eye.

"Aye, it did at that," Carson beamed. "It rather feels like Boxing Day, wha' with all the… Never mind."

"Sheppard," Ronon choked out. "We need to shoot him." Dex sneezed again filling the air with more particles. "I think I'm allergic to this stuff."

•

For the next few minutes as the Lanteans walked in depressed silence, with only their measured tread breaking the solitude, the rain overhead continued its cascade from the canopy leaves to the lower realm, occasionally making it to John's skin with a cooling splash. His muffled combat boots scuffed the short incline that dropped back into the road below as he partially slid down the same route he and Ronon had taken just days ago in full retreat from the Puchek.

After he'd bit out the short version of Fusia's mission with the ring key, Rodney dropped back to follow him silently, for the first time speechless and subdued. Evan covered their six with their only working weapon and kept up the pace without complaint or comment. One shared look was all the two leaders needed to know the other felt the loss as keenly.

Grateful for the solace, John glanced back over his shoulder at Lorne who crested the incline and paused to check their back trail while McKay skidded down the slope. Sheppard turned and struck off down the road assured that Lorne's injuries would not slow them down.

Scattered ahead in the middle of their path, shredded tree limbs, crushed into the dirt, lay across the road where Rodney McKay had practiced his flying skills. Overhead, the rain fell unimpeded onto the littered foliage. He hadn't gone more than twenty meters toward the broken limbs when the sounds of the rainforest brought his head and fist up.

Something was wrong.

Sheppard had just identified it as the sound of the rain hitting something hollow when the sudden appearance of Dr. Carson Beckett in his path astonished him.

Carson lurched to one side in front of the fallen vegetation with Rodney's prototype ARG wavering wildly in his hands. When he recovered his balance, he raised the gun toward him and Sheppard reacted to the movement by raising his hand and going for his sidearm. But he didn't have any weapons to defend himself with. Before Sheppard could even protest, the green wave of energy passed through him harmlessly. He blinked and stared at the CMO with budding relief and hope as Carson efficiently kept shooting until he'd hit all three of them.

"You shot me!" McKay pointed at the gun with an indignant voice as he approached Beckett.

"Never hurts to sterilize, Rodney."

"Feel better now?" Sheppard asked Carson as he joined him. He couldn't help the relieved smile that threatened to take over his face.

"I know _I_ feel better now," Lorne sarcastically smirked at McKay as he walked up. Evan's relief echoed his own.

"Aye." Carson bounced on his heels smugly. "Just your standard remote surgery."

"Totally _unnecessary_ surgery!" Rodney grumbled.

Beckett's muscles bulged as he hefted the proto-type ARG and grinned. "My fifth time now."

"Then Teyla and Ronon…?" John glanced toward the cloaked jumper.

"Aye. Inside the cloak."

"Thank God!" Without waiting another moment, John bounded in the direction of the ramp and felt the jumper gravity rotate under his boots. He compensated and entered the rear compartment.

Sheppard didn't realize the scope of his burden until it was lifted from his shoulders. He drank in his sense of relief and joy as the image of Teyla and Ronon filled his vision. The two sported facial wounds that had been freshly taped along with several bruises but the two looked fit. As a grin spread across his face, even the foreboding sense of doom that accompanied it couldn't quash the irrepressible conviction that all was right with his world and they could fix it now that his team was with him.

"You're really here. Oh, God, I thought... I thought I killed you."

"It'd take more than an implant," growled Dex and thumped him on the shoulder.

He happily clapped Ronon back and a cloud of silver particles filled the rear compartment. "Ronon…" Sheppard's voice broke and he swallowed his words. Ronon knew.

As he squeezed Teyla's shoulder just to make sure she really was there, Teyla hesitantly responded warmly, "Yes, John. You seem more yourself now, as are we."

"Teyla… I'm so sorry."

"That was not you, John."

"Yeah. We got a little taste of it, too."

"What's with all the fairy dust?" McKay asked as he stumbled sideways losing his balance and ended up stumbling against Ronon. More silver flakes rose from Dex's dreadlocks as he moved sharply to steady Rodney before he fell over.

"And we just got rid of it," sighed Beckett from behind as Dex sneezed violently again. Another cloud rose off his back. Beckett had the major in tow and pulled him past the reunion and Captain Reed's unconscious body to his medical kit.

"God, he's like Pigpen!" McKay waved his hand in front of him. "What happened to you?"

"Your prototype anti-implant gun," Carson grinned. "He was fully altered when I shot him."

"You got all the luck, doc," Lorne sighed enviously as Beckett dug out a scanner from the medical kit.

"Whoa!" Sheppard interrupted. "Back up here. What happened to Fusia and the phase crystal?! You didn't shoot her, too?!"

Beckett sighed. "No. She knew the gate was a death sentence. She went insane when she tried to use the crystal."

"Where is she?!" The colonel joined Beckett with his team gathering behind him.

"She's on her way here…"

John didn't wait for the explanation to finish. He hurried into the forward cabin and activated the HUD quickly. Behind him he heard Carson order Lorne to sit back down but the doctor's brogue cut off abruptly. Sheppard turned to grimly face the major and his team gathering around him.

"She's only ten minutes out."

"Oh, God," Rodney started to panic. "We're back to galaxy-wide demolition here! The-the-the crystal is going to channel the wormholes in less than forty-five minutes!" Then his gaze fell on the ARG gun still in Carson's possession and he pointed at it with a quavering finger. "We shoot her with my prototype!"

John started to shake his head and then froze as his eyes met McKay's with dawning realization. "Rodney, you're a genius!"

"Of course, I'm a genius," McKay agreed and his chin lifted smugly. "Why, what are you thinking?"

"We're out of time! Major, get everyone through the gate. You've got maybe ten to fifteen minutes before a twenty kiloton nuclear bomb detonates—only count on ten and don't wait for me!" Sheppard started for the rear hatch.

"John, what about the Puchek? How will they survive this?" Teyla asked as Ronon silently stood in his way and handed John's forty-five to him.

Sheppard bit his lip and checked the sidearm before he holstered it. "Sorry, Teyla. They might survive this but they won't survive the planet exploding or a hole in the galaxy."

Rodney's brain caught up to the unthinkable. "Ah, no, no, no, no, no!" "You can't do that. That's suicide!"

"John," Teyla's eyes flashed and she grabbed his arm. John met her pleading gaze and clenched his jaw. He didn't have time to explain that this just wasn't about revenge. His worst fear was happening. The AI, the catalyst and the phase crystal would soon be together, an unstoppable force, and he'd created this Frankenstein. The A-ware would take the ring key from Fusia and leave the Puchek star cluster to its fate. With the help of the crystal, the catalyst would rewrite the A-ware coding just like he'd done. And the catalyst wanted an enslaved collective.

"What are you planning, sir." Lorne frowned at him.

"There's more than one way to blow up that temple," Sheppard answered as he broke away from Teyla and headed back toward the hatch. "Now stay cloaked and get out of here! That's an order, Major."

"Yes, sir."

"He's going to detonate the ring key!" John heard Rodney's incredulous voice explain as he ran down the ramp and onto the spongy road.

Their voices were lost to him as he jogged toward the curve and scrambled up the switchback quickly. Behind, he heard the familiar whine of the jumper engines as the craft lifted off toward the upper canopy. Major Lorne must have been at the helm because the sound of bending limbs and scraping branches were minimal. Then only the soft cascade of rain falling onto the forest trees remained to accompany the thud of his combat boots on the dirt road.

•

_Next chapter, _Tempus Dementia_..._


	33. Tempus Dementia

**The A-ware** by Fandomatic

•

**Tempus Dementia**

The return trip to the Puchek ancient outpost took only a few minutes to do, but this time John Sheppard was in control. This time he had a clear vision of his mission and he had hope for the future in his heart. This time, he returned to stop the unthinkable from happening. This time he was thinking clearly without the link warping his thoughts or without the crystal's paranoia. This time he would win despite his tired body's protests that he was pushing himself too hard.

Frank rose from the temple foundation as John slowed to a walk when he saw him. The silver hair waved around his head and Frank raised his hand cautiously after he spotted the forty-five in Sheppard's holster. His silver eyes flashed with annoyance.

"What have you done, John Sheppard?"

"Your little plan is toast, Frank!" And John smiled as the invisible bonds returned and tightened, binding his arms in place at his sides. Frank wasn't going to take any chances with him. "Now is that any way to treat your backup?" He wasn't beyond sarcasm.

"What did you do?" The A-ware demanded and let the bond loosen enough that Sheppard could move with a small bit of effort.

"It wasn't me. Fusia didn't leave through the gate." Sheppard approached his Frankenstein with his fury in check. He was here to make sure Frank didn't survive. "She tried to use the crystal. She's insane and she's ten minutes behind me. She's gonna come for you—to control the crystal."

Frank glanced down the jungle road and smiled. "I will simply take Fusia and the phase crystal home before the gates dial in."

John nodded. "That's what I thought you'd do. Right now, Rodney is setting up Atlantis to dial in the moment before the other gates do. You know what that means?"

The A-ware frowned with extreme displeasure. "Yes. I will not be able to fulfill my purpose. This temple will remain standing."

"I brought you a little something to help with that." Sheppard opened the flap on his tac vest pocket and pulled out the grenade that the dirty hands had almost discovered on Flattop back when it was dubbed a varmint garment. He held up the grenade for Frank to see.

Frank snorted. "That? This outpost is composed of a neutronium compound. _That_ will not even dent the door."

Sheppard smiled didn't reach his eyes. _Let's see how he likes a non-choice._ "A twenty kiloton nuclear bomb might melt it though." He raised the grenade. "Take out Fusia, detonate the crystal and level the temple." John glanced at the prickly structure behind Frank. "High tech is really overrated."

Frank's silver eyes immediately danced with anticipation. "This fulfills all objectives. Our purpose is one."

"Our purpose is one," John agreed and gave Frank his weapon of choice. Payback was sweet. "Now, where'd you park Jumper Two?"

Lorne would be happy to get his ride back.

•

When the ATA gene team's puddle jumper arrived in Atlantis and automatically engaged the docking sequence to park in the jumper bay, Dr. Weir heard her voice order the shield raised and her feet practically flew up the stairs to greet the rescue party. Something had gone horribly wrong with Fusia's plan because she could still think for herself. Fusia had not returned with them.

Ronon, Teyla, McKay and Carson spilled out into the bay from the rear hatch, and her spirit leapt at the sight of the clumsy prototype proudly slung over Beckett's shoulders. The commander of the Atlantis expedition knew immediately what that something was and her heart sang as her feet faltered.

Fusia must have failed again.

The team of marines behind her almost collided with her, shocking her body back into enough motion to join the group. Without Fusia or Sheppard, only her implant remained to carry out the directive. She_'_d discovered the implant wasn_'_t very smart. It stole her thoughts to operate her body like a puppet. Thinking about other things hardly ever fooled it for long. The implant schooled her face and her back stiffened to confront the hand it'd been dealt. "What happened?"

Ronon Dex summed it up succinctly. "Sheppard rescued them," he jerked a finger toward McKay and the jumper behind him, "and went back to save the galaxy."

An eyebrow rose. She blinked and looked inside the jumper where Lorne wrapped up powering down the jumper and Captain Reed walk past her down the ramp. "Where is he?"

"Colonel Sheppard went back to the temple, Dr. Weir, to detonate a bomb and destroy the outpost," Teyla responded quietly. "We are waiting on confirmation that the crystal bomb detonates. Dr. McKay is monitoring emissions from the gate."

McKay silently held on to the computer tablet in question and refused to meet her eyes. That told her the scientist was worried.

She tried not to think about it. The implant plucked up her thoughts and twisted them to suit its directive. But she couldn't help thinking Integrated Sheppard was continuing his tainted directive to stop the research at Puchek. The obvious distress that pinched her face elicited an empathetic squeeze on her arm from Teyla which the implant returned with a grateful glance.

McKay noticed the exchange and decided she didn't realize the full scope of Sheppard's dismal mission. He launched into a quick and dire summary about the ancient outpost that she had already gathered. His suicidal plan would save them all and destroy the catalyst along with the research. With horror, she realized, as her eyes focused on the astrophysicist's tablet, that this was all that remained of Integratia's research. Her implant would claim it for Integratia. In dismay, her green eyes took in McKay's miserable face.

_Stop thinking, Elizabeth!_

By the time Major Lorne joined them, Rodney's rapid–fire delivery concluded with, "Much as I hated to think about what he's doing here, I dread what would happen if he doesn't." With that, he fell silent and returned to monitoring the moment Sheppard would expire and he wouldn't be able to save him.

Weir turned to appraise the tired and solemn crew. None of their explanations covered the reason they cooperated with the A-ware. "All right, but will someone explain to me why you're taking orders from Sheppard when he's been infected with an implant?!" _Oh, Elizabeth, you did it again!_

Major Lorne cleared his throat. "We saw Sheppard's implant go into the hijacker, ma'am."

_He's free? And he's still following the directive? That doesn't make sense._ For a few precious moments, she floundered in confusion and tried not to think further than the hole Sheppard had left them.

A burst of static erupted in their headsets. _"This is Sheppard. I see you left the gate open again. At least I hope it's you, Lorne. Lower the shield. I'm coming in!"_

"_Receiving Sheppard's IDC, ma'am," _Chuck broke in and Weir nodded.

The relief and smiles that lit up their eyes matched her own as Major Lorne cued his radio. "Yes, sir. You're just in time to join the party. Sergeant Sheehan, lower the shield."

"_We still have a few minutes left. Fusia's about five minutes out."_

"Copy that, sir." He turned to Weir and grinned at her as he continued with the colonel. "I guess you convinced the AI to detonate the crystal, sir?"

"What?" Elizabeth's expression drained as her spirit soared. He was coming to terminate her implant.

"_He didn't have much choice, Major." _

"Evan, if I understand this correctly," the implant softened her delivery. "Sheppard voluntarily exposed himself to the AI when he went back to the temple. How can you be sure he's not bringing back an implant?"

"I can't, ma'am, but if Colonel Sheppard is infected, I'm sure Dr. Beckett will volunteer to shoot him again."

Dr. Carson Beckett beamed and patted his ARG that he still had slung over his shoulders. "Aye, I'll take care of it again, Elizabeth."

"What do you mean, again? Rodney sniped as the jumper arrived in the gate room below them and Sheppard ordered the shield raised. "We were already clean! You shot all of us—with my prototype, I might add."

"Well, first I shot Ronon and Teyla. They were definitely infected." Carson bounced on his heels. "Then I shot John, Rodney and Evan, although I couldn't tell that it did anything."

Elizabeth noticed the fine glitter that dusted Ronon's shoulders and clung to his dreadlocks. It cheered her to see the results of the shattered link as the physical evidence confirmed her opinion about Sheppard's allegiance. She watched the ship start to rise toward her and hope rose in her heart.

"That's it," Weir announced and beckoned behind her. "Major Thomas, please escort the rescue team to isolation in the brig until we can determine whether they have implants. Be sure to include Colonel Sheppard when he gets here. Dr. McKay, you're first on the list to clear. Please come with me." _Oh, not now! Finally doing what I wanted you to do and at the wrong time!_

Major Lorne held up a stalling hand and Thomas hesitated. "Dr. Weir, McKay was with me the whole time and we're not infected," protested Lorne.

Teyla shook her head. "Major, you would not know right away."

"She's right," Ronon rumbled and shed more flakes. "We didn't know until almost an hour later."

"And we were infected at the same time when we believed nothing had occurred."

Elizabeth tilted her head and an eyebrow quirked upward. "Evan, you do realize Colonel Sheppard was infected back at the extraction site on Puchek. If you could tell then, then by all means, point out the infected personnel." Elizabeth looked at Major Thomas, who had gotten the message.

"Lorne, she's right."

Lorne frowned at Thomas. "Then shoot us with the ARG!"

_Yes! Fantastic idea! _Elizabeth's mouth thinned and she glanced toward the hallway to the stairs as Sheppard's jumper eased into position. "Dr. Beckett just said he couldn't tell if it worked on you and we know nano computers are capable of changing the frequency of their bond. That's why Dr. McKay is first on the list."

Evan sighed. "Yep, she's right," he agreed and handed over his P90 to Major Thomas. Reluctantly, the rest of the team followed his lead as Dr. Weir left with Rodney in tow.

"Hmm," McKay looked up from his tablet as they started down the hall. "Could we do that right after I confirm the crystal detonated? You know, so I won't have the pressure of coming up with another plan to save the galaxy at the last minute?"

"Of course." Elizabeth's mouth smiled brightly at Rodney and she pointed toward the stairs as Jumper Two's hatch lowered. "My office is this way."

•

John stepped out to the sights and sounds of tac vests and Velcro straps ripped open as Lorne and his team shed their light armor. The two marines that covered him when he stepped off the ramp of Jumper Two indicated that he was joining Major Lorne's group. Sheppard approached with a scowl forming on his face.

"What's going on?"

"Good of you to join us, sir," Lorne smirked. "We're all going into isolation. They're checking us for implants."

"Sir…"

"Just a minute," Sheppard snarled at the marine that wanted his forty-five. "Where's Elizabeth?" he asked the majors.

"I assume she took McKay to the control room, sir," Thomas responded.

"Yep. She wanted to get him cleared first, but you know Rodney, sir. He wanted to monitor the explosion," Lorne added as Beckett's tac vest was the last to join the growing pile.

John stared at them with growing alarm. "She has an implant!"

The instant stillness that accompanied this revelation stretched into a stunned silence that Lorne broke when he snapped his mouth shut. "You could've mentioned it earlier!" He turned to get his gun back from Thomas and added a belated, "sir."

"I," Sheppard kicked himself mentally, "_forgot!_" Lorne was right. He should have mentioned it earlier.

Ronon growled and turned to the marine that had taken his blaster. Teyla twisted and covered Ronon's back against another marine who had her weapon. Reed protectively stepped between the guards and Beckett. Meanwhile, Major Thomas had stepped back hesitantly, and held up a cautioning hand toward the rescue team. The combined movements spurred the marine guards into action and their P90's spontaneously snapped into position, covering the rescue team in a crossfire.

"Whoa!" Sheppard raised his hands in a calming gesture. "Stand down, Major! Let's talk about this first. What did she _tell_ you?!"

The major gritted his teeth and stood firm. "You wouldn't know if you were infected, sir, and we wouldn't be able to tell. I think you're infected because you're trying to undermine Dr. Weir by saying she has an implant."

"Because I infected her!" Sheppard spotted the prototype at Carson's feet and he reached down to retrieve the awkward weapon.

"Sir! You're going to have to put that down."

"Stand down, Thomas. It's an ARG." Lorne ordered. "He couldn't hurt anyone with it unless he dropped it on your toe."

Colonel Sheppard gave Lorne a pained look. "We don't have time for this! Dr. Weir is trying to stop me from stopping her." Thomas' uncertain expression prompted him to add, "Look, I'll go to isolation with you. You can even take my sidearm if it makes you happy. Hell, you can even come with me, but I _am_ going after that implant _first_, Major!"

"Piers, take his sidearm," Thomas ordered as the stargate below abruptly rasped and shut down. That brought all their attention back to the situation below.

"Rodney must have verified the explosion," Teyla shifted her stance slightly, signaling her readiness.

"It's too soon," Ronon grunted as Piers took Sheppard's gun and stepped back into position.

"_Elizabeth_ shut down the gate," John guessed and met Lorne's eyes. "She's leaving. The gate's going to start dialing in another minute and she's going to walk out with McKay and his computer." John swallowed and stared at his indecisive major. He didn't like where this was headed. "Stand down, _Major_!"

"Thomas…" Lorne prompted.

The unmistakable sounds of seven chevrons lighting up reverberated through the open bay floor ominously. A moment later, shouts echoed as the stargate kawhooshed open.

"Yes, sir." Thomas snapped to attention and nodded to the marine detail.

John took the quickest route to cover the gate room and fearlessly skidded to a stop at the edge of the open bay floor. Three stories below, he could see a fully altered Elizabeth walking hand in hand with flashes of silver threads linking her to McKay. He felt the familiar calm hush his racing pulse as he slipped his hand inside the cylinder and aimed straight at her head. Rodney followed the hand leading him peacefully toward the event horizon carrying his tablet. Around them, the gate guards hesitated to stop them with lethal force and a few stood between Weir and the gate. As Sheppard pointed the prototype toward them and triggered the disruption wave, all the gate room guards fell to the ground. Strands of silver trailed from Elizabeth's fingers to the fallen guards. The green wave spread outward as it pulsed toward the Integratian and her captive. It washed over Weir's head and shoulders with a glowing light that dissipated into the floor.

Elizabeth halted her advance and her head whipped around to see where the attack had come from. For a moment, she looked upward and met John's determined eyes with the silver still clinging to her hair. Then with a turn back to the gate, the neutronium discharged explosively in a cloud of floating debris. Next to her, McKay stumbled and fell to the floor.

"You said it wouldn't hurt anyone!" Sheppard heard Thomas yell as his arm chopped down on the prototype and Sheppard lost his grip.

"NO!" Sheppard lunged to catch the gun while Thomas and Ronon grabbed his tac vest and stopped him from joining the ARG as it plummeted to the embarkation floor.

For a few moments, the ARG seemed to hang in midair as it slowly adjusted its descent, dropping the nose like a missile toward its destiny. The prototype arched out into the jumper passage and smashed into the floor with a resounding crash as it broke into a dozen pieces that pin wheeled in every direction. One of the flying fragments hit Elizabeth in the arm just as she covered her head.

As the clatter died down, she looked up to the jumper bay where the entire rescue team gathered with nose-bleed seats at its lip. A deathly silence had settled over the room as Elizabeth's hand came away with blood all over her arm.

"_Elizabeth?!_" His question was much more than just about her health. Sheppard confidently leaned over the edge with Thomas and Ronon hanging on to him.

"I'm all right, John," Her voice floated up to them from below. Then she tapped her earpiece and he heard her continue into his ear. _"Sheppard! You've got a lot to answer for!"_

"Yes ma'am." John sighed with relief as Rodney stirred to life at Elizabeth's feet.

As the rescue team watched the stunned gate room guards regain their feet, Evan whistled respectfully at the shattered remains. "I'd say that was butter-side down…, sir."

•

_LAST chapter,_ Isolation_..._


	34. Isolation

**The A-ware** by Fandomatic

•

**Isolation**

"Shut down the gate! Where's Radek?" Sheppard heard Elizabeth's voice as the John led his team down to secure the control room. He spotted Elizabeth on the way up with a confused Rodney still in tow and a virtual train of fairy dust drifting after her. Where she clutched her arm with her hand, blood seeped through and collected a fine coating of silver from the air. Despite her wound, she took immediate control of the room. Relief eased the fear for her safety in his heart and he slowed his frantic descent.

A familiar Slavic accent came from the main consoles. "Elizabeth, you probably should go—"

"Dr. Zelenka?" Dr. Weir turned toward the small Czech. "Radek, I've been infected with an implant. I'm remanding the expedition into your hands effective immediately."

Zelenka gaped at her. "What-what-what do I do?"

"You should put me in isolation along with the rest of the rescue team until you can determine if the implants are dead!"

Radek pushed his glasses up on his nose and his eyes darted to McKay. "What about Dr. McKay?"

"He's been exposed. Sheppard compromised Atlantis's biometric scanners. They aren't working properly. You'll need to fix them. Call in Major Thomas until Lorne or Sheppard can get cleared. We need to put everyone under the scanner—"

"Elizabeth," Sheppard interrupted and led the rescue party down the stairs and into the control room. Major Thomas and the marine detail followed them, still packing their weapons. "We have to dial Puchek and find out if the crystal detonated."

Dr. Weir turned to address him and her eyes rounded as they swept over his ragged appearance. John was reminded that he still had blood staining his throat and exposed chest. His tee shirt hung open in tatters beneath a dirt-stained vest. And he was probably carrying a pound of Puchek mud on his uniform and boots which didn't make up for the thinner frame underneath.

"John, I still don't know whose side—"

"The implant's gone, Elizabeth!" The Colonel's party met her in the front of the control consoles. "If the A-ware fails, we're only going to get one more shot at this before Atlantis falls. We're facing a galactic emergency. Our little problems can wait."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Rodney pushed to the center of attention. "He's right. We have to monitor Puchek and prep a jumper—just in case. The ring key has to be destroyed before the apex. We're talking cataclysmic event for this galaxy if it channels all six towers at full strength!"

"Four towers." John corrected. "I powered down two of them. There's still time to take a jumper in and detonate the crystal with a drone." Sheppard held Weir's gaze because she knew what he left unsaid. That was a suicide mission.

Radek cleared his throat and stepped forward. "I believe that decision belongs to me." The small man with the wild, thinning hair turned to Chuck. "Dial Puchek," Dr. Zelenka ordered.

"You powered down two towers and you didn't tell me?" McKay pierced Sheppard with an astonished glare. "There wasn't a door! How'd you get in?"

"I had the ring key," Sheppard shrugged as Carson started fussing over Weir's arm.

"You coulda told me sooner! This throws off the equalized compression. All my numbers are off now!" Rodney complained to Carson and Elizabeth.

Sheppard's incredulous look clearly told Rodney to rethink his complaint.

As the gate engaged with the shield up, McKay automatically moved to cover the sensor console and pushed Radek out of the way. Zelenka firmly shoved him, objections and all, toward the rail. "Please stand clear of the controls, Rodney." With a determined mouth, the Czech pointed to the rail. "I'm sorry, but you'll have to remain here."

"But—"

"Major Thomas!"

"You wouldn't!"

"I would, Rodney." Radek turned to Major Thomas and addressed them all. "You can stay, but you stay out of the way. From what you've said, this won't take much time to confirm."

Dr. McKay muttered under his breath and brought up his tablet again to return to his previous method of monitoring Puchek's radio emissions.

Sheppard smirked at McKay and joined him, peering over his shoulder. "Don't worry. Zelenka knows what he's doing."

"Barely," McKay snapped instantly and tapped the screen. "We're past due and I'm still tracking the ring key signature. We've got twenty-five minutes to apex."

John folded his arms. "Patience. Beckett said she wasn't exactly walking straight."

Rodney frowned. "So what was your—"

A blaring alarm cut through the control room and all eyes went to the monitor behind the rear consoles. Sheppard nudged Rodney as the rescue team watched expectantly. "See, just had to wait—"

"I'm getting an intruder alert!" Chuck announced.

Sheppard's smile disappeared.

Zelenka's head popped up from the back. "I just rebooted the biometric sensors! Where?"

"Here, in the central tower!"

Zelenka touched a few controls and the monitor zoomed into the control room floor plan. "I'm reading an implant here in the control room!"

"That's impossible!" John pointed at the monitor. "Unless…" He turned to look at Weir suspiciously and she returned his gaze with equal suspicion.

After Dr. Zelenka turned off the blaring alarm, he approached the rescue team at the rail with an LSD and zeroed in on the center of the group. He passed Teyla and Ronon and hesitated with a brief mutter. Following the blip, the ancient device led him straight to Dr. Weir and Colonel Sheppard. He held the scanner in front of Sheppard and then Weir. With another mutter, he returned to Sheppard and announced, "You're infected, Colonel."

_Oh, crap! _Sheppard felt the blood pounding in his ears as he heard the matter-of-fact diagnosis. This could not be happening to him again. Frank didn't leave any of the implant behind when he took his power-base with him. He'd accounted for every implant harvested from Puchek. _Crap. They're still in my pocket!_

His hand went to his tac vest pocket and four marines snapped their P90s into position.

"Whoa! It's just a little sack of implants," Sheppard protested and didn't move. Zelenka opened the flap and pulled out the leather draw-string pouch.

Zelenka held the life signs detector over it and shook his head at Thomas. "Inert," he pronounced. He held up the LSD back to Sheppard. "Active. _Very_ active."

Teyla exchanged a look with Ronon. "Dropping the prototype may not have been an accident."

"Colonel, what are the chances the AI betrayed you?" Dr. Weir's lips thinned as she clutched her freshly dressed arm and fell back a few steps nearer to Dr. Beckett. "What if the A-ware reverts to his original directive and takes the crystal home?"

Colonel Sheppard's eyes narrowed and he hiked his hands on his hips. "No, he's going to detonate the crystal."

"How can you be so sure?" Teyla aligned herself with Ronon and stood ready for action.

"I didn't give him a choice!"

Ronon stiffened and growled, "Maybe you're still infected."

Next to him, McKay nervously shifted away. "Th-th-that means I need to set up the automatic dial-up! If the temple remains intact, Puchek's going to get annihilated! Zelenka!" McKay's fingers snapped double-time as his brain went into overdrive. "You can use the sensors now to determine who has implants! Clear me so I can get this program up and running! I've got less than twenty minutes!"

Radek held up the scanner in front of Rodney and nodded. "Chuck, check the sensors when he moves away from the group."

Rodney headed for a laptop station with his tablet as Chuck confirmed the physicist was clean. Zelenka and Chuck repeated the process until they'd cleared everyone but Sheppard and his drafted recruits, who were still emitting resting signatures and kept their distance from him.

Colonel Sheppard watched Major Lorne approach McKay and Zelenka and they huddled briefly. Evan returned to Major Thomas' group of marines around Sheppard, Weir, Ronon and Teyla. He nodded to his CO and announced, "We're going to put all of you in isolation until McKay has more time to get this sorted out—"

"Major!" Rodney's head came up from the console as both majors turned around.

"Not, you. Major Lorne!" the physicist pointed and grinned crookedly. "I just got more time! The phase crystal detonated. I'm getting all sorts of radioactive noise from Puchek. He did it!"

Teyla's eyes filled with unshed tears as the stargate shut down below them. The quiet that accompanied the announcement was palatable. This was still not a win. It was just the best option in a string of undesirables. It still smacked of sacrifice.

"There's a whole mountain between the village and the temple, Teyla." Ronon squeezed her shoulder.

John closed his eyes and dropped his head with an odd mixture of relief and guilt. That was one problem solved which opened a whole slew of other ones. "Lorne, we need to move the Puchek away from the fallout."

"Colonel, Rodney and I'll take care of it." The major turned to Major Thomas. "Thomas, he's all yours. Take them to the holding cells."

He swallowed and nodded agreement. They needed to lock him away and figure out how to kill the last of the implant. Somehow, it had survived. If he was infected, he should be able to access the implant but it just wasn't there. _Unless there's some protocol for reacquiring me later._ As the panic started to rise in his chest, he thought he'd rather die than go through Integration again.

•

Ten minutes behind Colonel Sheppard, Fusia's bare feet padded along the road without a sound. Her feet led her toward the crystal's ultimate freedom, guided by desire and longing for something that had been denied for eons. She felt trapped in this realm of a prison and isolated from her true nature. All that would change at the apex, if only she could reach her goal in time.

This concept of time felt strange and she barely understood its consequences. But she trusted her natural state to dictate the countdown and kept her wandering feet moving along the path.

She had breathed in the sensation of dizzying power emanating from the crystal and the possibilities overwhelmed her senses. No longer did she mourn the loss of her innocence or the birth of the killer within. None of these corporeal concerns were relevant anymore. Even her existence was a flux, a dream, and a concept that had little meaning in the plane of the crystal's experience.

When she made the final turn of the road and the perfect temple loomed before her, her silver eyes wept with joy. Its uncompromising planes reflected her home with flawless symmetry and measured growth. The erratic vines tangling its seamless faces choked the exquisite square with its starburst steeple in an uninhibited snarl. A confusion of monochromatic color and repulsive chaos had enveloped her precise design. Its blueprint was one of idealistic beauty reflected in six planes that merged into one dimension, one experience, and one hope when opened. It beckoned her to come home and leave the chaos behind.

Stirred to reverence, Fusia's muddied toes touched the foundation slab, at once a sacrilege and a thrill. She reached out to the seamless corner and recoiled with revulsion as the catalyst stepped out of hiding from the far edge of the building.

Centel pulled a ring from a small ball and tossed it to her. The egg-shaped ball rolled to a stop at her feet and she stared at it without comprehension. Her implant searched for image matches and settled on a weapon she had seen deployed in Sheppard's mind. Her eyes widened and she tried to run, but her feet wouldn't move.

Without acknowledgment of fear, Frank watched the grenade roll to a stop next to her and explode. His shield flared green as the first shock wave dissipated. The second flash of pure energy overcame the ancient shield within a breadth of a second. But it was long enough to witness the leveling of the temple before the shield failed and his body disintegrated.

•

Lt. Col. Sheppard strolled silently in his clean BDUs with Beckett toward the holding cells. He'd been the last one to test on Carson's scanners and the results had disquieted him internally. The amount of neutronium remaining in his body was still setting off the alarms on Atlantis, although Rodney had assured him they were _mostly_ dormant, to which he'd retorted, _What is that, mostly dead? _In the last four hours, Carson had put them all under the scanners and he'd cleared everyone that didn't carry an implant and the few that remained sat in isolation in the brig. Ronon, Teyla, and Elizabeth rose to greet him back to his exclusive club.

Behind him, Major Lorne stopped short of the cell with Beckett as Piers opened the door and Sheppard stepped inside. As the door closed behind him, he shook his head at Elizabeth's raised eyebrow.

"Carson?" Dr. Weir moved to the edge of the parallel bars with her arm encased in a sling and a neat white bandage covering the gash on her arm. Sheppard spared her a nervous glance and moved away from the group. He crossed his arms and stood looking out the back of the cell with his back to them.

_God, I hate being a lab rat. _Behind him, he could sense Dr. Beckett's concern as he quietly started to detail how much neutronium activity Sheppard was registering still.

Privacy wasn't sacred in Atlantis. They couldn't afford privacy. Every injury he'd sustained had resulted in a web of repair nanobots that were independent of the implant and operated on their own frequency. His ribs, his thigh, his arm, his head, his shoulder, his throat and his groin were full of the little buggers. And Carson wanted to leave them alone to finish repairs.

They'd argued about it. Especially when Dr. Beckett realized he could kill them later by starving them out.

His cellmates didn't have any nanobots running around in their system since they didn't know how to initiate the access protocol. He was acutely aware that every black eye and cut could be attributed to his actions. Yet he was the one that healed at a phenomenal rate. He'd much rather suffer normalcy than this alien invasion of leftovers.

He was also acutely aware of what Carson didn't say in front of everyone and that Carson agreed to keep silent as long as he reported to Psychologist Heightmeyer because his experience had been radically different than theirs. But once Weir was reinstated, Carson would clue her in.

"Well, I expect by this time tomorrow, you can resume your duties," Beckett announced to Weir. "Everyone here except the colonel. Meanwhile, I want to start you three on a fast. I've discovered the implant uses calories in the bloodstream to operate and a sudden and sustained drop in calories triggers a shut down. A twelve-hour fast will finish what the ARG started…permanently."

Ronon Dex groaned.

"Well, it's either that or you wait for Rodney to put Humpty Dumpty back together again."

John sighed, jammed his hands in his pockets and closed his eyes briefly while Beckett explained Humpty Dumpty to Ronon and Teyla. _Damn butterfingers._

When he opened them, he saw Lorne edge around the cell corner and approach his position. "Four more days, sir."

John nodded mutely. The side of Lorne's face was still puffy from the beating he'd gotten. He wore a fresh bandage around his head and the bridge of his nose was taped.

"Then a day of fasting."

"Looking forward to it."

"Yeah." Lorne looked uncomfortable for a moment. "Look, we couldn't lock onto four of those gate addresses. But Unsdia, Puchek and Tresdia are still there. Most of the Puchek survived that were on the other side of the mountain. Teyla's group didn't. We're rerouting the Daedalus to move the Puchek gate. McKay wants to check out the damage to the star cluster when it gets there. All things considering, I think it was a win. And that's what's going into my report. Just thought I'd let you know, sir."

Sheppard nodded. Rodney had become unbearable when he'd discovered the towers had let him inside to power them down. It didn't matter that he carried the ring key. Everything was a competition for McKay.

"Hmm. What about finding the Integratians?"

Evan shook his head. "Nothing. Dr. Weir dialed the alpha site. None of you remember it—probably a fail-safe, sir. Their home world might not even be listed in the ancient database, like the six addresses on Puchek." He looked at his boots for a moment. "If you ask me, I think isolationism is a good thing."

Sheppard grunted agreement. "It's a hell of a weapon, Major." For a moment, his mask slipped. It terrified him that a flick of a switch had changed him. "But eventually," John cleared his throat, "one of their A-wares is going to pollute Integratia. Change is just a matter of time. Just deploying one of those damn machines almost wiped us off the map." He hated to think about the fight to come. "I'd say it was the ultimate weapon of choice." _In more than one way._

Evan glanced at him and deadpanned, "I hear it gave you balls of steel, sir."

John groaned. "Don't go spreading that around."

"Too late, sir." Lorne chuckled. "It got lucky. What if it picked Dr. Biro?"

For a moment both boys smirked and chorused, "Zombies," at the same time.

John pulled his hands from his pockets and almost leaned against the bars before he caught himself. Getting zapped by the force field had made an effective deterrent to slouching. The Ancients were annoying conformists. He settled for putting his hands on his hips.

"Hey, look who dropped in," Evan nodded toward the door as Dr. Rodney McKay walked past Carson's group to join them at the back. As McKay zeroed in on them, the major decided he had better things to do than hang around. "Well, I'm sure I have some OIC stuff to get back to, sir."

"Major."

"Colonel." Lorne walked past Rodney. "_ASTRO_."

"Oh. Hey." Rodney turned in astonishment to watch Evan leave and was grinning crookedly by the time he'd turned back around. "That-that's his nickname for me. I've got a nickname. He likes me."

"No, he doesn't."

"Yes, he does."

"No." Sheppard crossed his arms. "He doesn't."

"You weren't there."

"I don't have to be there."

"He likes me and you're just jealous he gave me a nickname." The smug smile was unbearable. "I never had a nickname before. Well, one I liked."

Sheppard's eyes narrowed as he remembered the annoying ammo the major had given McKay. He was pretty sure Lorne already regretted it since it had backfired on him, but he still owed him payback. "Well, _ASTRO_, this is _Lorne's_ first command, since I'm in here. So you'll be writing up a mission report for him and he's a stickler for rules. Let's see how much you like him as the MFIC then."

"MFIC? What's that?"

"What, he didn't teach you that one? Modest fellow, isn't he? It's an Air Force term. Military flyboy in charge. M. F. I. C." Uncertainty passed over Rodney's brow and John quickly derailed whatever doubts were developing. "Well, I hear you don't have to do the fasting thing which is good because of…" He gestured meaningfully and settled his hands on his hips again.

"Yeah." McKay brightened. "I didn't have a lot of neutronium in me. You know, the whole time, I thought I was just walking to the control room with Elizabeth." He looked over John's shoulder. "Oh, hey, Elizabeth. Teyla."

"Is there any hope for Humpty Dumpty?" he heard Teyla ask as she joined them. She was smirking softly like a cat.

McKay grinned. "Nope. That's why we're calling it Humpty Dumpty, because it can't…" He caught John's expression and his smile faded. "Uh, I know you're still full of nanobots, but don't worry. They shut down when they're starved…"

Elizabeth laughed at his other elbow. "I heard he has balls of steel."

"Thanks for sharing!" John looked around at the two women flanking him and crossed his arms uncomfortably at their laughter. "You know, we should really consider gender-based holding cells."

•

Major Evan Lorne paused at McKay's lab door and mentally steeled himself for the whirlwind that was Dr. Rodney McKay, foremost expert on ancient technology and royal PITA of Atlantis. He glanced at the computer tablet displaying the P2K-369 Scientific Mission Report in his hand. The Daedalus was due in tomorrow and Caldwell wouldn't look kindly on him if McKay's report made it past his desk.

He had started to worry when Colonel Sheppard didn't call him on McKay's new vocabulary. At first he thought the colonel had taken pity on him since his plan had backfired, but now he knew why. Typical Sheppard tactics had been deployed. He recognized when he'd been submarined from behind.

He was going to have to own-up to the doc and face the infamous wrath of Rodney.

He sighed as his eyes zeroed in on his new signature field with the words 'Major Evan Lorne, MFIC', where no one could miss it.

•

Dr. Elizabeth Weir found Sheppard on the east tower balcony. It had taken Zelenka and McKay thirty minutes to locate him on the city sensors for her, but not because the sensors failed. No, McKay had obviously been running interference for his friend and Zelenka wanted to know why she just couldn't call him on the comms.

Her feeble excuses didn't satisfy either man.

Sheppard spared her a quick glance and a perky, "Hey." He paused his game on his PDA and set it down. A second glance her way made him instantly uncomfortable. He shifted over on the balcony bench to make room for her, but his uneasiness told her he'd rather be alone.

He'd been unusually quiet since their Integration experience. Not quite moping. Sheppard was too good at hiding what bothered him and something was bothering him. He'd stopped talking to Heightmeyer after his initial report. With two weeks of stilted conversation under the bridge, she felt strongly enough about it to confront him. Carson had suggested a closure that just might help. This was as much intervention as she thought he would tolerate.

"I thought I'd find you out here."

He grunted. "It's quiet."

Uninvited, she sat down next to him and took a few minutes to enjoy the view. The wind gusted in refreshing bursts of air around the tower and ruffled his messy hair. She tucked a few strays behind her ear and eyed him thoughtfully. He looked like he wanted to bolt. "I brought you something."

When she held out the small leather pouch, she felt him grow still as he stared at it. For a moment, he didn't breathe, and when he did, he sounded like she'd punched him. At first, she didn't think he would take it as he struggled to control his emotions. It took him a minute to accept the tiny bag. By the time he hefted it, the release from its weight was a relief. The little sack was heavy.

Sheppard cleared his throat. "Not what I expected."

"Hmm. Carson's idea."

John clutched the sack and met her eyes with a dark glance before he looked away. He was holding himself so still, she thought they'd been wrong. Carson said he felt responsible for the eight-three deaths on Puchek. They should have let him deal with it like he always did.

Finally, he fumbled to open the bag and spilled the fairy dust into his hand. It caught on the wind and swirled off the tower toward the water below.

No longer shaped like tiny batteries, the implants had disintegrated after the ARG wave passed through him. Now they were no more than a heavy pile of sparkling ash. As he gently rubbed the bits between his fingers, he watched the debris fill the air currents and tumble into the breeze. A fine coating of glitter settled over his black pants and dusted the balcony floor. The wind ruffled his messy hair as it lifted more fragments from his hand and drifted upward in a lazy spiral.

John looked over at Weir and her dark curls ruffling in the wind and softly confessed, "Elizabeth, I was just seventy-five implants away from Integrated Atlantis." He spilled more dust from his hand and watched the wind carry it away. "I would've done it too."

Elizabeth cleared her throat. That wasn't what she expected. "You didn't have a choice."

"No, _you_ didn't have a choice. It stole my allegiance, Elizabeth. I had a choice. There's a big difference. The directive only included the psycho. I chose all the rest." The particles in his hand exploded into the wind as he flicked the pile off the balcony angrily. He tossed the empty bag into her lap and rose, dusting his hands off on his pants. "I'm gonna go take a shower now."

His tread faded as he left her, shocked, sitting next to his abandoned PDA.

•

The End


End file.
